From Deep Within Ty's Tale
by Enne
Summary: Tyelle is a girl much unlike others who wishes to be a knight, but has to plans to be bullied as Kel was. She is taking the Alanna approach and hiding herself away. Yet when the bullying in the Palace-which Ty is trying to abolish-hits on her pack, Ty des
1. So Mote It Not

Tyelle paced in her rooms. If Jonathon found out about this, she was dead. Dead as it was ever possible to be. The King did not like it when girls who were supposed to be boys not to tell him what was going on.

Ty had never liked the treatment that the Protector of the Small had received when she had tried for her shield. If you asked Ty, she would tell you right away that neither Kel nor Alanna had slept with anyone to gain their shields. It had been only hard work, and a fair bit of discrimination where Kel was concerned.

Ty was the kind of girl to defy authority with a will at all times. When her parents had told her she must marry what's-his-face from some islands to the south, she had stormed out of the room to spit on the man's shoes and return to her rooms. When she had told her parents she intended to be a fighter, they had locked her in a tower for a good six months, hoping this way the need to fight would evaporate.

One's parents can be so STUPID sometimes.

Ty had had no plan to return and apologize to no young gentleman and marry quietly. No intention to surrender whatsoever. She had decided she might try and gain a shield at the palace, but had known better than to ask her parents. Like she needed another lecture. No, no, no no no. No more. Tyelle had had enough.

So, what could she have done? Being supremely unconcerned about things such as treason to the Crown as well as her family, she had kept her nickname but changed her real name to Tykel and gone off to the Palace. She had decided to be a fighter, and she was not going to give it up.

She knew she could have forged her parents' signature, but decided she would rather hide her female identity. It would be considerably easier for her if she went about it this way. Also, if she did as the Lioness had done and stuck it out, though altered her behavior so as not to sleep with any prince as the Lioness had done (but the prince in question was betrothed anyway and would have no interest in her charm even if she tried), no one would ever be able to say she had not rightfully won her shield. The fact that the Ceremonial Bath was, in fact, a bath in front of males, did not bother her either. She would deal with it all in due time, as she did everything.

Mael appeared at the door. Ty hastened after him as he headed down to the Mess Hall. She didn't need to be late for her first night at the castle, that was for sure! As she ran after her sponsor she spotted a mirror and, while passing, checked herself for details. Her dark gray eyes, though rimmed with red from lack of sleep, still looked, in a way, blue. Her hair was cut short and braided all over her head for reasons none of the boys suspected. Her sharp features looked somewhat menacing---perhaps she ought to fix that. Her eyebrows, as ever, curled upwards, giving her a threatening and defying face. Nothing was out of place. She was ready.

As Mael opened the doors Ty saw something she would certainly have preferred not seeing: Ferbur de Croimant, the training master, accordingly appointed by her the nickname the Weed. She knew of no other men wound up so tight in her life, and this one in particular had a talent for showing up, not only when no one wanted him, but only to ruin things. The name The Weed was rightly placed, of course, for only weeds were stupid enough to linger when people did not want them, and like a rightful gardener, she intended to uproot him.

He had also been appointed by her the more popular name of Ticker, for he was wound up tight as a clock and always ticking, not to mention very picky about the time and was the kind to, as his name stated, 'tick everyone off'. He was above all other training masters in status, though there were several, and was the last word at all times. Or, at least, until now. He was the very first authority she thought to challenge, and thus her first test. Considerably more fun than a trial year, to be sure.

As she sped to take her tray behind Mael, she studied her possibilities. She despised getting up early, but she would have no choice. Men showered in the same room all the time, and she needed to be seen left from the Men's Bathing House to confirm her story. The only thing she could think of to avoid being spotted was to go very early and then, with her hair wet and once again braided and magicked, go wake Mael. It was the perfect strategy so that, in the case that folk asked why they never saw her bathe, she would simply reply "because I get up earlier than you to do it."

She needed to also consider the fact that her magic must stay hid. This was the reason she grew her hair cropped short and braided to the skull: her powers, in order to stay hidden from most mages, had to be placed in one place they would never check: who checked the pages for lice, much less for magic? No one. Never to this day. So she had kept her magic hid upon entering the Palace and the city of Corus by braiding her hair in a complex set of miniature braids she could do without looking even, making their way through her scalp in the oddest of spirals, swirls and such other forms. It fitted her Gift perfectly, as it was not the typical Gift at all. She only hoped she could fool Salmalin too, which was not something anyone could do.

As the Ticker Clock asked them all to stand end began to pray aloud to Mithros for some favor or other, Ty silently sent a prayer to the Goddess of thanks and for a little luck, then, as was her custom, when all readied to mutter the ritual "so mote it be" under their breaths, she spoke with them, defiantly and louder, "So mote it not!"


	2. Magical Exploring

The training master growled, but ignored her comment. She cursed in her mind, keeping her face bare of emotion or recognition. As she filed out of the Mess with the other pages, she thought about how on Earth and by all the Gods she was going to pull this off.

It was bad enough being a girl and pretending to be a boy for the next eight years, naturally, but not nearly as bad on her conscience that she was not as ready for it as the others were. The only good thing about the fact that she was a girl at this point in time was that she probably possessed more neurons in an inch of her head than these guys in the brains they possessed themselves. She also had the upper hand on her concealment: she knew what was coming whenever she became a woman, and would know how to disguise it. She was also two years younger than the pages, who were all ten, and thus her chest would not being to grow for a very long while. Hopefully it would come to pass once she became a squire and could be up and about making sure no one noticed.

The one thing that troubled her more than anything was her papers. Naturally, all nobles who applied to be knights had to have papers to certify it to be so. The papers she had forged were without fault, obviously, and were not her concern. Her concern were the ones that her father still held in his castle. Magical disguise or no, her father would be able to see through it right away. If he did, and showed Jonathon the papers, she was worse than royally screwed.

As she got in her rooms, Ty set about making sure there was no way anyone could see her from outside. She must still be cautious. Numair undoubtedly could sense magic, and boys could peek in. wariness was in deep need.

She crawled over to the basin in the corner, sitting on a small table, and washed her face. She then placed both hands inside the dish and closed her eyes. Once her senses gave her the all clear and she could hear no noise, she let them go...

Ty felt her head pound. She had learnt a great deal from her magic last night, but with the bindings and spells in her room, letting her senses back inside a pounding skull had been difficult. Her head felt like it had been between a hammer and an anvil as they tried to forge a sword.

She quickly got out of bed and ran for her towel. Once this was done, she stood before her mirror and checked herself. _I knew it,_ she sighed mentally._ I am never doing that in here again! Ever!_

She could not risk her real appearance showing itself off when her magic could not return to meet the deadline. Her true black hair had returned, as had her dark skin and her even darker eyebrows. Her long lashes curled too obviously in the sign on female beauty, though she denied being beautiful with a will as she did everything else, and her true eye-color was also back. Silver-rimmed blood-red hues stared back at her.

She reached within her for her magic, then remembered she had locked it. She cursed herself once more. She couldn't look like this as she went outside! It would give her away!

She took up a braid at the very back of her skull and twisted it carefully. A tiny amount of silver liquid sprouted from it. Fabulous. The binding on hit had broken upon its rush to return to its proper place. Dash it all!

She carefully undid the end of the braid and a surge of energy ran through her arm. Doing it up again with great haste, she asked her magic to lie still. Once the braid was made up, she took her arm and placed it on the mirror. Praying the mage was not yet awake; she willed her image to change.

It did. She now looked like the boy who had been outspoken at dinner. Grand.

Taking up her towel, she ran towards the Bathing House. No one there. She was truly in luck today. As she scrubbed viciously and re-magicked her hair, she prayed to the Goddess her luck would hold.

She quickly dressed and shot from the Bathing House. Drawing a sign in front of her, she called the name of Mael, who woke. She hid in a corner as she waited for him to come down to the Bathing House. She waited for only a while until he came, his towel over his shoulder. As he did, she dashed to the entrance of the House and began to walk calmly back to her rooms.

As planned, he saw her as she walked past. "Where are you off to, page? The Bathing House is that way."

Ty laughed. "I'm aware," she commented with the air of one talking of the weather. "I've just been there. Please excuse me, my before-training awaits me, as does my breakfast."

Mael raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "I await you outside the Mess, page," he said. "You and I are in need of a word."


	3. Meeting The 'Bullies'

Ty neither knew nor cared what Mael wanted. At least not now. She had major trouble brewing over at the edge of the passage way as she rounded it on the way to her rooms.

She was well known at home for being a rogue. If there was bullying going on, you could bet your bottom Crown Ty was there, trying to stop it from happening. Many boys around her fiefdom heard her voice in a fight and scattered. Though her arms were weak, and she knew this, she was mighty tricky to deal with, one trick after the next one up her sleeve.

_Well, what did they expect?_ Ty mused, grinning inwardly. _It comes from being female, naturally._ As she caught sight of the passage to her rooms however, all humor in her died with a sickening crunch.

Three boys were hitting a fourth, who was lying on the floor, looking near unconsciousness. Blood was running from his skull. In the aggressor's fist (for there was only one aggressor, the other were just holding him) were spikes of rough steel, made as if to shine armor. They were going to punch the boy to SHREDS!

Her fury took over before her brain could. Shrieking her famous war cry, she charged toward the bullies, knives lowering into her hands as she ran...

The bullies looked up, and the boy who was punching the unconscious child froze. Ty ran at them, her cry ringing over the landscape. _One, two, three!_ she thought, and kicked the ground hard. Springing off the ground in a jump, she leveled herself to be a thin needle, knife-arms above her head. As the bully blinked, Ty struck him with the power invested in her weight and the speed of her figure. Her legs rammed him into a wall as she rolled and sprang, once more, to her feet.

By now the bullies had understood why she was here. They growled like angry dogs, spitting at the floor in front of her in rage. Ty grinned and closed her eyes.

From deep within her she summoned the animal that had been her guide as long as she had lived. It licked its chops in her mind as it leaped into her body. Hitting the ground quickly, one leg bent as the other was flat on the floor, as you would see the arrow of a compass, she placed both hands in front of her and lowered her face.

The boys had never seen it coming. They had all simply thought of a good night to try out the gloves belonging to Jurisen, but now they realized what big trouble they were in. As the boy, much shorter and thinner than they, raised her face to the scarce light, they were shocked to see her eyes a shining purple with yellow slits; the eyes worthy of the panther. What was going on?

Once more the shriek rammed them like a blunt blade. The boys knew better than to stick around. Punishment duty did not supply a good thought for them. As the boy pounced toward the victim of their attack, they scampered, running swiftly in the direction of their rooms. The sight of those eyes burned into their memories, as did the sound of the shriek that ached their muscles. They would be warier in future.

Ty could hear the sound of quick footsteps heading her way as the attackers scampered. She looked once more at the victim. She looked like a small servant girl, not a page as she had first thought. Typical of third-year pages to head for servants, she thought. The panther's thoughts busied her mind. _Run, run, **run**!_ it cried. Ty looked at the girl's face. She might be only eight, but this child didn't look over seven. As the footsteps approached, Ty remembered that nobles were not to fight after-hours. She thought of escape, then grinned at the panther's great idea. No one ever checked the_ roof_.

She leapt up, an arm around the child's waist, and noticed that it was low enough for her. As the steps drew even closer, she landed, braced herself, and leapt up once more, aiming for one of the low wood bars that kept the ceiling above her head instead of around it. Grabbing it, she counted her breathing so as to make the least noise possible.


	4. Awareness

"What is it?" asked a tall man, dressed in a shirt pulled hastily over tanned skin. "what happened here?"

Another man came over at a swift walk. He, too, was tall, with the graying skin of one lacking sleep. As he approached, Ty registered blue eyes of sapphire tones and a small, black beard, one matching a mane of black hair, slick and shining. Jonathon. Uh oh.

Ty kept absolutely still. The entire kingdom knew of the magic of the king, who was also the Voice for the Bazhir. The panther froze. _Go,_ she told it. _Go quietly, for he can sense you. _It drew back carefully.

"Jon, what are you doing here?" asked the first man, now identified as Raoul, commander of the king's own. She could have been able to tell even without seeing him; all of his men were coming over at a run, crying out his name and asking for instruction. He raised a hand level with his face behind him, signaling a halt.

"Raoul, call Alanna up from the Swoop," he said quietly. "Or, better yet, leave her be and call Numair. I can feel magic tingling in the air, but I cant place where. He can do this better than I can."

"What of Daine?" Raoul asked. "Do you think she will be needed?"

The left side of the king's mouth moved upward slightly. "There's a feline on the loose here," he said. "If you don't bring her, she'll have my head on a platter for breakfast."


	5. Catalyst

Ty used the ceiling to crawl back into her room, the girl balanced on her hip. If Jonathon caught her, she would defy him as she defied everyone else. There would be no special treatment for the king who had placed Kel on a probationary year.

As she climbed in through the window, she checked for alien objects. None there. Good. She crept quietly over to her closet and dragged out her spare cot. Placing the child on it, she inspected her for the last time.

Dark hair and skin identified her as someone not originally from Tortal in Ty's mind. She was small and thin, and looked quite abashed. Ty brought out her jar of cleaning oil and set about washing the child's wounds. As she dressed a particularly nasty cut on the girl's cheek, she woke.

"What...—oh no!" she gasped, and sat up in a flash. "I beg the pardon of your ladyship, I mean no offense!"

Ty raised an eyebrow and sat back. "What offense would that be…?" she began, then something more important slammed her in the face. The girl shivered and shook as Ty's face hardened. "How do you know I'm a girl?" she asked dangerously, her voice sounding murder.

"I beg your pardon, my ladyship, but I saw!" the child replied, looking close to tears. The side of the banister was open—I never meant anything, mi ladyship!—and I saw a quick glimpse of—."

"My legs," Ty growled. She scolded herself for leaving anyone the opportunity of seeing such a thing, much more because she was not supposed to be a girl, and now someone knew. 'Always kill the witness,' her father often said. She was not, however, about to slay an innocent child._ I hope I have not yet stooped so low as to take a monster's advice!_

"What is you name and office, child?" she asked at length. The child trembled.

"I am an orphan, milady. I thought perhaps someone here at the palace could—"

"Your office?" Ty interrupted coolly.

"I am a commoner, milady," she squeaked. Then she threw her hands down in front of Ty and touched her forehead to the cot. "Please do not punish me!"

Ty thought it over. What could she do? She had here a girl with the kind of information that could get both the girl and she in a very, very bad situation, if they were not in one already. Yet, it seemed a small good thing that someone knew. Now they did, if anything happened, the child might help. If she was an orphan…

"Child, I will give you a choice, once you give me your name," she declared. "But please stop the bowing. Your ribs will complain."

The child sat up straight in a flash. "Sabidrielle, your ladyship. Sabidrielle Mandorre."

_Did parents always set people ridiculously long names?_ Ty thought fleetingly. The panther growled. Ty cringed. She was right. Business first.

"If I may, I would call you Sabi, because Sabidrielle is too long," Ty said, her voice gentler now. The child nodded. "Sabi, I have a bit of a problem here. You may know, but the King and the pages have no idea I am a girl. I really must keep it that way. And I am sorry to say that I am not allowed to keep small girls in my rooms, but I am allowed a maid. Thus, if you wish, you can stay on the pretense of being my maid and help me with a few, simple things. I can promise you food, a home, and the occasional hug, though gold I cannot provide. My parents have no idea where I am, you see. That , being there no further questions, is option one."

The child looked astounded at such a direct approach and an offer she had obviously never heard. She did seem to realize she would have to behave and not tell anyone. She thought for a bit, then nodded for Ty to continue.

"Option two you might like better, seeing as there is a lot less of me in it. If you wish it, I will send you with a letter to the house of a cousin of mine, one who has bought the bonds of many a servant when they were being mistreated, and offered them a home. If you wish for it, I will send you to her and tell her she must keep you safe. Knowing her, you would be dining with her children and laughing to her humor in no time. I give you the choice. Choose."

Sabi seemed to think it over, her face screwed up in concentration. She then nodded and wrapped thin arms around Ty, who froze in surprise.

"I stay," she said proudly. Ty patted the top of her head, gave her a squeeze, and let her go.

"Please no 'ladyship' stuff, okay?" she asked. "Boys training to be pages usually aren't treated so, or called 'milady' every five seconds."

Sabi nodded. "Could I beg the name of my lord?"

Ty shook her head, grinning slightly. "No ''milording' either. It's Ty. Just Ty."

"All right Ty," Sabi said agreeably. "May I go wash up?"

Ty smiled. "Just because you play the maid doesn't mean you work for me," she told the child, whose shoulders drooped as tears slung into her eyes. Ty, realizing what she thought, chuckled a bit. "Child, you do not work for me, though you play the maid. You will live here. Your rights and mine stand equal. You may do as you like, but if you are going to bring lads in here to share your bed, please abstain from doing it while I'm around. Now please, go wash up. You're staining the sheets."

Sabi, who had been shocked at the idea of sleeping with a boy, realized why Ty said this. If she kept virgin, the training master would know Ty wasn't raping her or sleeping with her, which was not allowed. The girl leapt to her feet and walked over to the basin, rinsed her cuts, allowed Ty to dress them, and got into bed.

Ty sighed. She was still due for a talk with Mael. She could do it tomorrow. As her sponsor, there were a few things they needed to set straight…


	6. Tunnels And Creatures

Ty walked back out of her rooms and into the passageways on the way to the Mess. Mael owed her a bit of an explanation for the tone he had used the day before, but more than anything, Ty needed to make it quite clear how she was not going to be bossed around by anyone, sponsor or no.

As she made to open the door and enter—she was obviously going to be the first in anyway—a strong arm pulled her back from the wooden frame and into the darkness. She felt her eyes flash as the always did when murder pumped her veins. She spun around, drawing from her wrists the long, silver flat-knives she always held there. She was somewhat coated in shadows, but the stranger was completely covered by them. She narrowed her eyes and felt the pain she always felt as the pupils turned to slits.

"Who are you?" she demanded angrily, her voice venom.

"I'm here to help you," the voice said, cool and possessive. "But we cannot talk here. Come."

She saw a change in the shadows as the person, whomever it was, turned expertly in the darkness and sprinted carefully to the edge of her vision and out of sight. Still wary, Ty followed noiselessly.

_How strange is it that the castle has so much darkness at morning?_ Ty mused as she followed stealthily. _Very interesting indeed. Perhaps it was because of all the hidden passages in it? Best not to assume that there were people listening or lurking around. I couldn't afford such an assumption. I'll find a map, shall I? Yes, that seems a good idea. _

The figure stopped suddenly as the passageway ended and the narrow corridor within it was too narrow for further traveling. Speaking a single word, candles above her head burst into light. Ty didn't even blink, but asked the panther to widen her pupils. Snarling, it obeyed.

It was…a boy. A page, bound to be in his second year at most. Tall, about 5 foot ten, an entire ten inches taller than her. Tanned skin told her she was dealing with someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Kind brown eyes looked back into hers with wariness, hardened by her expression. A lean frame and muscled arms all the way down to callused hands impressed upon her that a battle with this boy was a considerably bad idea. Brown hair reached to the scruff of his shirt, about a quarter of an inch below the end of his neck.

_Tact here is the key, precious,_ the panther spoke to her. _This human has enough strength in his arms alone to split your frame into two solid pieces without sweating a drop. _Tact_, my Defiant._

Ty stood up straight, looking up at him. When he didn't speak, she raised an eyebrow. He had, naturally, brought her here for another reason than just wasting her precious time? A small, satisfied smile tugged at his lips. She turned her head a fraction of an inch to the left, stopping the urge to place her fists on her hips and demand a word of explanation from him.

"Tykel, I am not here on leisure," he said finally, in the most masculine voice she had ever heard. The panther frowned. She didn't move, didn't breathe, and didn't blink, weighing him. "What in the name of—?"

"I wish to help you," he explained. "That jerk of Mael doesn't realize even half of what you are, and I admit that what you possess is not the Gift, but there is something there, and there has got to be something you need a friend for. I know a girl by the reputation of 'Ty, the Defiant', and it seems to hold with yours. Surely there is something you wish the training master, out dear Lord Weed, not to know?"

Ty snarled. This human knew too much, said the panther. Kill him, she advised. It would oh so sweet to be able to obey that sensible command, but there was something that she needed to set straight before going Panther. Something very important. Something that, unfortunately, had nothing to do with what she replied.

"Who are you?" she asked, the feline murder tone in her voice. She saw a shiver run through him, saw him suppress it. A man who had the skill in him to match her own abilities? Pity she needed him dead.

"Me?" asked the boy. "I'm just a page. A page that, unfortunately for you, has a pretty good idea—"

"You're not answering the question," she said quietly, making the boy's speech grind to a halt. "What is your name and why are you interested in helping me?"

The boy looked and sounded confident when he replied, but his skin told Ty the real story. He was frightened. Very, very frightened, and very wary, that was the truth. Good. Wary boys tended to use their brains as opposed to their balls, she had seen over the years.

"My name is Kehel of Matyr," he said slowly, watching her eyes apprehensively as if they'd tell him something. "I want to help you because, unlike most, I believe in justice. I have a pretty good idea of what you are, of _who_ you are, and I know that you will be a very big help to the kingdom someday. Besides," at this point he looked at the floor and the piece of it that hung on to Ty's shoe, "You need a friend. So do I. we need people with_ sense_ among the pages, Ty. Even if they _do_ defy authority."

Ty's brows snapped together almost audibly. They all seemed the good reasons for innocent, good-natured help. But—she knew better than to assume him innocent. Quoting herself, 'if behavior and speech don't match, a plan is in the hatch.' She needed proof. The panther growled within her. She knew the human was right, but trust wouldn't hurt now and then was its reminder. Ty rolled her eyes at her. Trust got people killed.

_My sweet, you need to trust sometime, someone,_ the panther snarled. _You cannot do everything alone. This boy—test him. If he tests true, trust him. You can't fool everyone for very long if you do it alone_.

She drew up a hand slowly and took hold of a braid. "Mael," she said, thinking the spell that would allow her to see if he lied. Trustworthiness was very important to her. A very select group of people had her trust, though she had many's. "What are Mael's intentions? Does he know and want me out of here, or is friendship what he's after?"

The boy thought this over for a moment. "Well, I know he doesn't know. I'm pretty positive the only people who know are you and, naturally, me. And if the are others they obviously mean to keep it quiet. Mael is very traditional: he will be your sponsor and your aid, nothing more. You can't rely on him. He's too grounded on his own policies. If he knew, so would the king. He probably only wants to straighten out that he is your sponsor and his responsibility, and that you must answer to him. That _should_ be all he wants."

White flashed before Ty's eyes with such brightness she couldn't stop a blink. It was all truth, to the best of his knowledge. Standing before her was, in all reality, a potential friend. Could that actually happen to _her?_

"Why bring me here, then?" she asked, removing her hand from her braid and slipping her knives back into their places.

"Listening spells," said Kehel. "Myles has had them placed everywhere. My brother has the gift, he figured out a way to purge this place of them. I couldn't—_you_ couldn't—risk the king knowing of this through the spells."

Completely true, if not only completely rational. That was all she needed to know for now. Except—

"Are you a first year?" asked the boy suddenly. "Where are your rooms?"

That turned her blood to ice. The first question was simple and not risky to answer, but why did _any_ man want to know where your rooms where?

Kehel realized the turn in her gaze. "Thing is," he explained quickly, "if you're a first-year page, like me, then your rooms are somewhere nearby mine. If they are, I can make sure no one barges in while you change, which happens often enough to be careful of. Normally pages don't see the reason to knock on doors, but if they barge in on you—"

Ty's shoulders dropped as she sighed to the ceiling. Of course. Boys between boys felt no need to give their mates enough privacy to knock on their doors when they wanted to come in. This, for her, was a potential danger. Straightening herself and looking directly at Kehel, she said, "First year, Left Wing, fourth door on the right side."

The boy seemed all but overwhelmed at this sign of trust. "Good. I'm Left Wing too, but I'm the second door on the left. You're about two doors away. If you need anything, there will be no problems, then."

She nodded. "Shall we proceed to the Mess?" Ty inquired politely. "There's a certain conservative piece of old-dust I need to deal with before we can sit and get breakfast, and if I put it off much longer the Weed wont forgive either of us—he has his special dislike reserved for me."

Kehel nodded and walked out after her. A few minutes passed before he halted. "Hang on," he said, taking hold of her shoulder. Her head turned enough to face him that he dropped the hand at once. "Sorry. Erm, why does the Weed not like you?"

Ty gave a little laugh and turned forward again, walking forward with a smile on her face. "Do you recall a certain voice last night that said 'so mote it not'?"

"Yeah," Kehel said, puzzled. "The Weed seemed furious, but couldn't rightly blame it on anyone because he couldn't prove—hang on. _You_ said that?"

The passage was now wide enough for Ty to turn around, her eyebrows raised and mischievous smile playing with her lips, tugging at them slightly. Kehel's jaw dropped slightly as his eyes widened. "Mithros spear me, _why?_"

Ty chuckled slightly and walked forward, toward him. He looked both stunned and wary. "Two reasons." She turned about half a foot away from him and began walking back. "Because I pray to the Goddess and because I didn't like the angle of the Weed's seat."

She felt Kehel gape behind her. "You would risk Mithros's fury over the angle of a _chair?_" he said, stunned.

"Yes," she answered simply. "I would risk _his_ fury over just about anything, including the guess of the size of a certain little creature in his groin."

Kehel laughed fit to burst, he couldn't help it. As he held the door open for her, receiving a raised eyebrow from Ty and they entered the Mess, he whispered in her ear, "I'm glad we have someone here without one."


	7. Sparrow

As Ty made walked down the corridor to the Left Wing, Kehel beside her, she pondered on the events of the day. That look from the Wildcat she had not liked. She had looked too pleased with herself when Ty had sent another first year right into a wall as she hit her staff to his.

Now that she thought of it, there was something she distinctly remembered she had to ask Kehel. As they stopped outside her room, she looked at the tall youth with inspecting eyes. His joyful smile wavered.

"Kehel, why did you say you were glad about—," she looked at the ceiling. _Be wary of the spells,_ she reminded herself, and continued, "Why did you say that about the creatures this morning?"

"Oh," he said, the smile returning broader as he understood what she was talking about. "About the creatures, you see, the females tend to have more sense than the males. Whilst they keep a cool head the males bash themselves into every visible wall. It was good that one we found was female."

Ty's head turned a fraction of an inch to the left, indicating the unasked question. Kehel laughed, flicked his eyes left and right for a millisecond as if checking if there were people around, then quickly and unexpectedly leaned forward and whispered in her ear quietly, his lips touching the skin on them only slightly but enough to make her stiffen.

"Stop being so wary, Cat, lest you miss the sparrow when he passes…"


	8. A Panther's Opinion

Sabi jumped as her mistress entered the room, her skin glowing white in some areas, furious red in others. She turned and slammed the door, then rested her back against the wood.

"Ty, is everything alright?" the child asked, rushing forward and taking hold of the books that Ty's steady hands held. Placing them on the desk, she saw her mistress's hands shook a tiny bit. Unnoticeable if you weren't looking for it, the shaking was accompanied by the sight of sweaty palms. Sabi stared.

Ty did everything she could to control herself, then walked over to the right corner of the room and pulled up a plank. Taking out of it a coin, she flicked it in Sabi's direction. As the youngster caught it, she said in a somewhat shaky voice, "Sabi, come chocolate, caramel, and a bit of water, please. Salma will get the water to you, but if you go to the kitchens I'm sure you can pay for some chocolate and caramel. Any other goodies without cinnamon that you can find and afford will be okay."

Sabi nodded, but stayed where she was. "Ty, what _is_ it?"

Ty plumped down onto the bed. "Nothing. My pressure is low, so I need sugar to get it up again, if, that is, you don't want me vomiting all over the room. Please go."

As soon as the child was outside and the quick footsteps had faded, Ty turned inside herself. _That didn't just happen, did it?_ she asked the panther quietly. _It didn't, did it? And if it did, then why did it sound like he was hinting something? He wasn't, was he?_

The panther chuckled. _You know,_ it said, _for a fighter you have a grand insecurity for some of the most basic things._

Ty growled. _What did you think he wanted then, oh grand Know-It-All?_

The panther shook her muzzled head slightly. _Human or People terms?_

_Human, preferably._

_Ah,_ said the panther. _In that case, since you stupid humans cant seem to say things clearly and always choose to play games, it is either one of two options. Either he didn't want the spells to hear—_

Ty shivered. _I'm not going to like the other, am I?_

_Or,_ pressed the panther, an evil smile playing on her lips, _Or he likes you and wanted to make it known subtly._

_I knew I wasn't going to like option two,_ she grumbled. _Which do you think it is?_

The panther chuckled. _I think you should wait until Midwinter to figure it out…_


	9. Overall Childishness

When Sabi returned, her mistress had her face in her hands. She slipped into the room and locked the door, then passes her purchases to Ty. As she gave her a thankful smile, Sabi decided her mistress needed to be taught how to play.

Sabi took hold of one of the small, tidbits of caramel and tossed it lightly at Ty. Ty raised an eyebrow as it hit her forehead and flicked it back at her. Sabi took hold of it and realized why Ty didn't understand. She walked over to her bed, picked up her pillow, and tossed it at the head of the older girl, who was busily looking for a chocolate candy. It hit her full in the face.

Ty's face was bright red when the pillow slid off it. Sabi's was too, and her fist was in her mouth, trying to stop the flow of laughter that would flow from it if the limb were removed. The sight of her mistress's face was that funny.

Ty got up and walked over to her. Sabi paled and ran to the other end of the room, but Ty was hot on her heels and the room wasn't that big. Grabbing Ty's pillow for protection, she ducked behind the bedpost. Ty threw the pillow at the child, who caught it and threw both at her. She laughed as Sabi ran to the other end of the room, giggling.

Ty threw both pillows at the child. One missed, but Sabi caught the other. Charging at Ty as she threw herself to the floor to get at the pillow that had missed her, Sabi allowed a bit of laughter to escape. Tripping on something, she went flying at Ty, who tried to duck. _Tried,_ that's what she did. It didn't work. Sabi and the pillow both slammed into her. They both chocked a bit, Ty because of the blow and Sabi the landing, then both burst out laughing. At that point, someone bashed through the door of the room. Kehel, half-dressed, strode into the room, looking panicked.

"What—?" he attempted. He didn't have time to get the words out. The girls both threw the pillows at him. Staggering, he held on to the frame and laughed. Closing the door, he charged at them with the pillows. Squeaking a bit, they ran for cover.

A foot stuck out of nowhere. Tripping on it, Kehel bashed himself headfirst into the wall. Laughing, Ty took hold of one pillow as Sabi took hold of the other. They both began pounding the helpless boy as he sat up.

"Hey!" he complained, shielding himself with his arms. "I thought you were in _trouble_ or something! I came only to help! This inst fair! Let me go!"

Ty laughed as Sabi passed her the pillow she held and plummeted herself into her bed, laughing. Raising her eyebrows and jerking her head slightly at the bed, Kehel grinned. He took the spare pillow and ran with Ty at the child. With a squeak, the youngster made to rush away, but was unable to by the pillows falling down on her. She laughed and said, "Hey, I wasn't the one who stuck the foot out at you!"

Halting, Kehel rounded on Ty instead. As he pounded her with the pillow, Sabi threw herself into the laughing pair, tickling her mistress. After minutes of this, they gasped a truce and fell onto the floor. Ty was the last to reach the floor, gasping for breath. She didn't go down willingly, but slipped from the edge of the bed and fell on top of Kehel as he made to sit. Caught off-guard by the hit, he laughed and hit the floor hard. Gasping for breath, Ty rolled off him.

"Gods spear the maker of pillows!" Ty said between laughs.

"So mote it be!" cried the others, and collapsed into another fit of laughter.

Ty settled herself in the middle, Sabi's head on her stomach. Next to her, Kehel banged his head against hers as he tied to get closer. For some strange reason, this didn't bother her. Placing himself where he could see her face, for his height had become a problem to do so, he sighed contentedly.

"Well, that was educational," he commented. "Pity no one teaches it anymore."

Ty laughed. Sabi giggled. Kehel settled his hands behind his head.

"So what now?" he asked. Ty sat up, transferred Sabi to her lap, and leaned over Kehel to reach the candies on the bed. Taking a chocolate for herself, she dropped a caramel into both their mouths, then settled her back against a wall. The bell for supper sounded. As Ty groaned, Kehel stood up. Sabi smiled wearily and stood. Kehel stuck out a hand to pull her up, then offered the same curtsey to Ty. Taking his hand, Ty was taken off-balance by his strength. She catapulted into him. They both landed on the floor again, Kehel below Ty.

Laughing merrily, Ty stood and offered her hand to Kehel. As she raised him to his feet, she noted Sabi had stuffed her fist into her mouth again. Suppressing a question, she reached behind Kehel and opened the door, her arm brushing his shirt slightly. Kehel's face felt warm as he walked through it, Ty following him.

"Sabi, you'll—" Ty began.

Sabi shook her head. "Salma's bringing my supper. Go. You'll be late."

Nodding to the child and then to Kehel, they sprinted to the Mess, arriving only a few seconds late. Gathering up their food as fast as they could, they settled into their seats. The training master glared at them as they took their seats on a lone table. Standing for the prayer, the Weed said "Tykel and Kehel, an audience when supper is over." As they stood, Kehel groaned. Ty grinned. Perfect time to defy, right after dinner. No risk of not eating then.

As the prayer ended, Ty said nothing. She sent a prayer of thanks to Mithros along with her usual one to the Goddess. She thought she might as well thank him for her new friend.

Sitting down, she caught sight of Kehel. He was shaking his head, looking amused. Ty hid a smile as she tucked into her meat. Was he always going to behave like this? It would take but minutes for people to figure it out if he did!


	10. Raoul's Warning

As she walked back to her rooms with Kehel, they spoke of the Weed's punishment. A week polishing armor for a full bell! For being three minutes late! Outrageous. Not that either of them cared. They were both rather pleased with Ty's wisecrack on the training master. His face had been a laugh.

At the turn of a corner, Ty's face melted to blue fury. Those damned boys were hitting someone again. She would _murder_ them this time!

"What is it?" Kehel asked, noting the change in her face. Ty paid no attention. Slipping her knives into her hands, she flew down the corridor. Kehel, understanding what was happening, ran after her.

There they were. Seeing her round the corner, they dropped the boy, who took his opportunity and fled. Ty bared her teeth, her eyes hardening. "Do you do this every night, or are you simply unable to realize that I will pound you senseless if you continue?"

The tallest boy strode forward. "Why does a first year page demand we cease our practices? For the sake of what—rules? Rules don't permit animals in the Page's Wing."

Ty grinned. "Then you shouldn't be here, should you?" she said maliciously. As the boy angered, she dropped onto one knee, calling in the Panther.

"Let me give you good reason to stop this practice, then," she snarled as she lowered her face. "Kehel?"

Kehel had been walking forward furiously. "What?" he snapped, looking at the boys with utter hatred.

"Stand back."

Ty's face rose. She felt her pupils change to slits in the darkness. Leaping forward, she slammed both the boys into the opposite wall, then sprang onto the ceiling. Kehel looked around, dazed. She dropped behind him. Her pupils flashed. He gasped.

"Run back to the Wing," she said. The King's Own approach. I can get out right enough, but they've heard your name. Run and change into your bedclothes. Rap three times on my door, so Sabi knows what's happened. Go!"

"I—," he gasped. "I can't leave you here to deal with the King's Own!"

"Go!" she cried, jumping up to the ceiling. They could hear the steps now. As Ty's limbs held on to the roof, Kehel ran. Using her utmost care, she scraped the ceiling a bit and drew forth wood-dust. Writing something on the floor, she jumped back up onto the ceiling and made for her room.

Raoul could hardly believe his eyes. The words on the floor, right next to the unconscious boys, made his head pound. He could not put it together, however much he tried. The words would be burned into his memory forever more. As his unit walked back to their rooms, he decided to take this matter a great deal more seriously.

Reading the words one last time and heading back to his room, he realized Numair had to appear immediately. Those words on the ground were more dangerous than many would know, for they were made with wood dust and held in place with raw magic.

He shook his head. He needed to get to the bottom of this soon. The words called to him, wouldn't let him sleep. It was impressive that a simple pair of words could stop a man who had seen as much as he had from sleeping. He tosses and turned as he attempted to sleep until Buri hit his head hard and he decided to look at the ceiling instead. The words glowed in his mind.

NO MORE.


	11. Morning Havoc

Ty got up and ran. She was late to bathe, was going to be late to breakfast, and still had to wake Kehel.

Kehel. Ty stopped in her tracks.

Spinning around, she rounded the corner and banged on his door as loudly as she could. When it wouldn't open and she heard no noise inside, she remembered something he had said the day before. He was a heavy sleeper, that's why he…

…always left the door open.

Bull's-eye.

She opened the door and launched herself at his bed. When he only grunted sleepily, she took his pillow off his face and got near his ear.

"Third bell, Martyr!" she screamed. Kehel bolted from the bed and opened his eyes. Wide.

"What?" he asked, disheveled, flinging the covers off himself. Ty tried not to stare at her new friend in all his bareness. Ty had no time for ceremonies. Rushing over to his closet, she threw pants, shirt, loincloth and towel at him over her shoulder. As he jumped up to catch the items before they fell on the floor, Ty rushed over to the water pitcher and dumped it on his head.

"HEY!" he said, spitting out the water that had fallen into his mouth as he opened it in dismay. "What was _that_ for?"

"We're going to be late!" she said, rushing to gather his bathing things while he dressed. "We need to bathe and if the House is full I wont be able to! And its already third bell—!"

"Run," he said, taking his things from her hands and dumping hers into them, his shirt still unbuttoned and no shoes on his feet. "You run faster than I do, and the hurry is all yours. Run. I'll be right behind you."

Ty nodded and fled. Once she rounded the corner, she heard the stampede that was Kehel right behind her. Calling in the panther's speed, she flew from the corridors into the main hall, past the Mess and out to the mud road that lead to the Bathing House. As she burst in, she noted the greater amount of people that were running off. Obviously people wanted to be early for breakfast. Fabulous. Depositing her things on the side of the pool that was the 'tub', she watched people run off. She had to wait no more than three seconds for Kehel to burst in as all others left. Running to a corner, she undressed and put on a towel. When the last group of people left, she watched Kehel look distinctly at the ceiling. Rolling her eyes, she checked where his eyes rested before jumping in, shedding the towel millimeters before her entry to the water. Once she was in, she swam quickly to where her things were and collected her washing sands and hair-soap. Kehel still looked at the ceiling.

"Kehel!" she snapped, beginning to rub herself with the sands while hiding under the water's protective cover. "We don't have time for this! I've seen you already! Undress and jump in! I don't want two weeks of armor work, and I will come out myself to push you in fully clothed if I must!"

Hearing this, Kehel looked her in the eye and went visibly red. "But…I should wait until you're done! I don't want to intrude you in all your—!"

He didn't get time to finish the sentence. Using her towel and a great deal of skill, she flung a lasso around his knees and pulled. He fell face-first into the water. As he came out, Ty motioned to his clothes. Resigned, he shed them, looking warily to see where her attention was. She seemed too busy rubbing her hair vigorously to notice him. Though her hair…was undone? How could it be undone?

"Kehel, stop staring at my hair and clean yourself!" she snapped without looking up.

Kehel busied himself with his soap bar as he asked, "Why do you always keep you hair up and braided, Ty?"

"Because I lock my magic in it," she replied, pulling viciously at her hair with a comb. "Damn this by all the gods!" she cried, pulling hard at a lock of hair, screwing up her face because of the pain. As she yelped and cursed, Kehel dropped his bar of soap and rushed over to her.

"I can do it myself, thanks!" she said, pulling at the lock with hatred in her eyes. Kehel wasted no time in slapping her hand away from the comb and taking it up himself. Pulling at it hurriedly, the knot came undone. Depositing the comb in her hand, he rushed underwater in search of his bar of soap. Once he had it, he emerged and ran it through his hair.

Ty had taken the opportunity of his diving into the water to slip out and wrap the towel around herself. She sat now on a bench, busily braiding up her hair in patterns he had never seen before with speed that was enviable. She spoke a single word that made the glass windows tremble and her hair glowed. Once that was done, she took hold of her towel and ran into one of the dressing cubicles. In a matter of minutes she was out again, fully dressed and dried, and hurrying over to the tub as Kehel got out and wrapped his towel around himself.

Ty walked quickly over to the drenched clothes and hung on to the braid directly behind her right earlobe. Pulling on it slightly and murmuring three tight words as she touched his clothes, they became impeccably dry. Tossing them to the stunned Kehel over the door of his chosen cubicle, she gathered their things.

"Kehel, hurry _up!_" she cried to him, throwing hers and Kehel's things unceremoniously into their packs with no order or neatness to be spoken of. As Kehel emerged from the cubicle, she stared at him.

"Your _hair_," she gasped. It was now slightly curly, the curls themselves not completely defined though they shone like jewels. She walked over to him, completely forgetting her haste, and felt them, standing on her toes to do so. "So silky," she commented.

"And _yours_," echoed Kehel, eyed wide at the intricately braided hair. "How do you _do_ that?" As he placed a finger at the center, magic raw as lightning rushed up his finger. Though shocked, he felt its path around the swirling of her braded skull. "Amazing."

The Fourth Bell rang. They both jumped. The Fourth Bell summoned all who weren't already there to the Mess. They were going to be late.

Ty reached behind her and loaded their things into her arms. "Run for the Mess," she told him. "Run. If the Five-Minute Bell rings without me, gather me up a good breakfast. Go!"

Leaving no room for arguments, she fled with feline speed down the hall toward the Left Wing. Remembering why she ran, Kehel shook his head to clear it and ran for the Mess.


	12. Breakfast 'Guests'

The Five-Minute Bell was seconds from ringing. Where was she? He had already gathered her a fair breakfast, but he worried anyway. If she didn't cross that door in under three seconds, the Weed was going to assign her more work with those stupid armor collections and with the load of work she still had to do, which would mean more work as punishment. She couldn't afford that. She was behind in counts already.

A group of third-year pages approached. Kehel tried not to stare and failed miserably. Why were they coming over here? No matter to them, obviously. They took up chairs on either side of him, one on his right, and another on his left, and then a third and fourth across from him. For some reason they left the seat directly in front of him empty.

Just as the bell started to ring, Ty walked calmly into the Mess and sat down opposite him. The Weed growled but said nothing. As the third swing of the bell ceased to sound, all rose for the Morning Prayer. Ty's eyes flicked left and right silently, looking at the four boys who had joined them, then moved her head in the way that asked a question Kehel didn't know how to answer. He shook his head slightly, then said, "so mote it be" along with the rest of the Mess. Ty said nothing. The boys turned to look at her, then sat down.

Of the entire Mess, Ty was the last to sit. Taking her tray from Kehel, she turned to look at the boys on her right and left. They were busily eating and seemed unaware of how strange it was for Ty and Kehel to have breakfast accompanied by others. When one of the boys caught her gaze, he hurriedly glanced back at his food. Ty, annoyed, decided she'd had enough.

_Slam!_

Had the Mess not been quite so noisy, everyone would have heard the slamming of Ty's cutlery. She had banged it on the wooden table hard enough to make everyone around her jump. This jumping off their stools counted in everyone, which included not only the boys around her, but also Kehel, who looked most afraid as he met her eyes.

The boy on the right of Kehel sighed and put his cutlery calmly beside his plate before addressing Ty.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked quietly. He looked about four inches shorter than Kehel, with curly, blond hair cut short and neat. Hazel eyes looked back at her without even the merest hint of annoyance. His skin was slightly tanned, and the muscles in his face looked very tight. He was scared. Fabulous.

"Yes, it was, though I wouldn't leave it up to your judgment," Ty said dangerously. "Are you here to mock or to eat, lads, for I have better things to do than converse with boneheads."

The boy sighed. "Ty, I presume?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Who asks?"

The boy's mood seemed to lighten slightly. "My name is Merel of Blue Mountain, but you may call me Mel if you so wish to. On the other side of Kehel—oh, don't look so surprised, you're tall enough everyone knows who you are—is Otian of Keletiel."

Ty's eyes flicked for a second to Otian before going back to Merel. Otian was a pale-skinned, copper-haired boy with the air of generosity about him. He was covered in freckles and his hair in curls. He looked about half-a-foot shorter than Kehel, making him about three inches taller than Ty.

"On the right—no, child, _your_ right—is Terit, commonly called Terry, of Goldmuer. He's a trained Shang, so try not to get him in a mood if you can."

Ty's eyes locked on Terry immediately. His skin was tanned, his eyes shining black. He looked like a steady, formidable opponent. His hair was mainly a crown of black spikes, but then again, Shang hardly lost time combing their hair. "I am the child of the Wildcat," he said, answering the unasked question. "The Stallion, according to her."

Ty had to agree. He had the body build of a herd-master. She nodded, and then looked back at Mel.

"Last but not least," he continued, "Is Leej. He's Bazhir. He's mostly traditional, but more open-minded than a great many of his clan."

Like all Bazhir, Leej had dark skin and even darker eyes. His hair was jet-black and cropped short. He looked about the same height as Mel. Another formidable opponent, she registered.

Ty sighed and drank a sip of her water. She wasn't in a good mood until she had had it, and was famous for it. Lowering her glass. She looked them all over. "And you are sitting here because…?"

Mel chuckled softly. Ty growled and he stopped. Clearing his throat, he said, "Because we think that there is something you want which we seek as well. Working together, we may be able to put a stop to it."

Ty thought she knew, but asked anyway. "The bullying?"

They all nodded. "Exactly. Though it is quite a bit more than bullying, because several people have been severely injured. Ty, this has gone on before you arrived. When we saw what you did that first morning, we understood what it was that was happening. You want to stop them. We have been trying for three years. We want to help."

Ty smiled. "Good," she said, making everyone sigh in relief. "But I warn you, if were going to do this, we will do it my way."

Leej froze in the act of taking a sip of orange juice and placed his cup wearily down. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," she said, eyes flashing, "That we are going to work under someone who has been fighting bullies all his life. We are going to play cat and mouse with these morons, and they are going to bleed. This is my game board. If you wish to join me, you work at my pace, with my rules."

Mel and the others nodded. As the leader, Mel looked her directly in the eye, fierce agreement in his voice. "You're on."

One by one, they placed their arms at the center of the table, over Mel's. Ty placed her arm in last, baring her teeth. "We will prepare for the Hunt."


	13. The Pack

The corridor was quiet. Ty could feel her pupils narrowing into the panther's predatory stare, but she held it back. First, the pack had to be introduced to the rules. Once that was done, they hunt would take place. And in the hunt, the predator prevailed. As the predator, she was going to shed the blood on the walls.

It had been a full week since the original meeting. Studies were loaded and the punishments becoming thicker as Ty kept pushing her luck. Though Kehel kept trying to make her behave, he seemed to have learned that might, as yet, never come to pass. So he had given up and simply tried to figure out how to follow her. Well, she would explain tonight.

"Cubs, be united in the circle that is the Hunt," she called to them. They emerged, one by one, from the sides of Kehel's room. Standing at the door, Ty thought it right that they all be inside while she blocked the exit. Drawing from her left shoe sole, she took hold of her flat-knife and pricked a single dot on her wrist. It bled freely. The boys seemed fleetingly stunned, then realized this was for real. They came forward, Mel first.

"My blonde cub, do you promise to abide to the leader of the pack, to obey and serve, as all the pack must as one, upon the blood that be drawn into your veins willingly?" she asked knowledgably. He nodded. Making a shallow slash on his palm, she took her wrist into her mouth and bit down lightly. Blood poured from her wound onto his. A single word and his wound has gathered it within itself and sealed shut. Mel gasped. Ty calmly motioned for him to step aside.

Otian came next. He gave her a mischievous grin and pronounced, with exaggerated chivalry, "I pledge to be the redhead nutcase of the pack, to abide its laws and follow its leader, to obey and serve, as all the pack must as one, upon the blood that be drawn into my veins willingly." Ty smiled, the proud parent, pleased to see her cubs were learning so fast. Just as she summoned forward his hand, he came forward and whispered in her ear, "as long as I'm not required to acquire a tail. I don't know how we'd explain that to the Weed."

Ty laughed. Kehel raised an eyebrow, then Ty proclaimed, "no tails required!" and the rest of the pack laughed with her. Kehel still looked wary, but said nothing. Ignoring him, Ty slashed the necessary place and raised her wrist once again to her teeth, speaking the word for the healing of Otian's palm.

The ritual was repeated with the rest of the pack, though Kehel leaned forward as Otian had done and whispered in her ear, "That really _was_ only about tails, wasn't it?"

Ty moved not an inch as she drew her wrist up to her teeth, but whispered, "the leader of her pack cannot fancy her children," only loud enough for him to hear. For some reason, this reassured him only as much as it worried. _Males_, she thought, bored. _They'll look for any excuse to worry and fuss, especially over females. _

Ty spoke the word of healing to her wrist, then closed the door behind her and motioned the newly formed pack to sit on the floor. They sat around her, Mel straight ahead, Otian on her left, Kehel on her right, Leej next to Kehel and Terry next to Otian.

"The rules, now, my cubs," she said dutifully. "The rules of the pack are simple, few, and easy to obey. Should you fail to abide to them, punishment will be issued on the behalf of the leader of the pack, as well as restriction or further rules. Nod once in understanding, lads. This is an ancient practice, it must be taken seriously."

"That is why the word of healing worked?" asked Leej. "Because the ritual has magic within it? If you had magic yourself, surely Numair would have sensed it."

"There is magic in the ritual, yes," she said. "Now, my cubs, the rules stand thus: the first law is to honor, to protect, to hold the pack. All are equal within even as the leader leads, lads."

They all nodded. Ty continued.

"The second law is to serve. You serve the leader of the pack because he is chosen by the pack as the trust lies in him. Who shall we choose as pack leader?"

"You," they boomed, pointing at her. Ty flushed. They laughed. Slightly red, she shushed them into silence.

"Right, then, we continue. Thus the third law is to obey. You obey the leader without doubt or fear of consequence."

Another nod.

"The fourth law is to follow. This is the most important rule. All the pack follows the pack leader, their confidence placed in his hands without regret. When the path twists and turns, trust the leader."

The boys before her gave a final nod.

"What happens if, for any reason, the leader went astray?" Terry asked quietly. "I mean, Ty, old boy, I'm not saying you will, but if something happens—"

"When the leader of the pack is vulnerable, the pack chooses. Remember, the first law is to protect. Protect the pack with all it takes, with all you have to give. And—" she said, seeing the question linger in his eyes, "If obedience messes with the first two laws, what do you do?"

The boys looked at one another, considering the question. First all looked to Mel, then to Kehel. When the pair nodded, they turned to her.

"Toss it out the window," they replied in unison. Ty smiled, containing laughter in her lungs.

"Right," said Otian, rubbing his hands together. "It's about four minutes to Second Bell before supper. What do we do, Tehea?"

"Tehea?" asked Kehel, looking at Otian with dismay.

"Mother tongue for 'pack mother'," he mumbled. "I realize that our poor Ty is not female, but he does lead the pack. The title gives him authority."

Ty could see a rile coming, though couldn't see why. Raising a finger to her lips, she said, "the pack must wash. _Now_, cubs. Mel, round up all the boys before Third Bell and head together to the Mess. They're nearest you anyway. Do not leave unless everyone is with you. Kehel, come gather me when I'm done. I'll tell Sabi of the plans. And everyone," she added as they readied to stand, "the utmost secrecy. We may be predators to the bullies, but they will sense the change in the winds. They will pounce given the chance. None of this gets to the Weed or I will skin you all alive myself and you know damn well I can do it."

Nodding, they went off in their separate directions. Upon leaving her in her rooms, Kehel asked, "when do you think they will attack?"

Ty smiled her evil smile. "Tonight, fourth bell, about three blocks from the Right Wing. Those boys are too predictable. Fifteen minutes, Kehel."

Then she opened the door and closed it. Sabi demanded information of her almost immediately. Kehel stamped on the floor on his way back to his room, shed his clothes, and washed.


	14. Herbs and Codes

Ty thought carefully about what must be done about these bullies. Naturally, she knew they were going to try being quieter, but she wouldn't have it. She would have a war and exterminate them, she decided. But how to keep this from the teachers? And after hours too, because, seriously speaking and all excuses aside, the boys needed time to do their homework. In all honesty, so did she. She needed time, and time was something she didn't have.

Ty sighed, then turned to Sabi. She would have to ask the child to do something wrong for her—something barely legal, as a matter of fact—and then she would have to do something. Something that was, of course, illegal to the extent that the king might never forgive it. There was no way to go about this and not get the word out.

Sabi looked worriedly at her. Ty masked her face before speaking.

"Sabi, I need you to get two herbs. They are…not allowed within Corus, but we need them anyway. I am pretty sure if you peek your ear in the right place, you can track it down and I can get at it. But you must not get caught."

Sabi's face became stone. "Anything for my mistress, Ty. What do you need, and why the caution?"

Ty sighed. "I need two herbs, one called Numbtongue and one called Loosetongue. Numbtongue is only barely legal, Sabi. Loosetongue is illegal except for those who have the permission of a healer's coven to use it responsively. I am not a healer. I am not allowed either of these. Neither will you be. Trod carefully."

Sabi nodded once, then left through the door, then appeared once again. "By when do you need it, Ty?"

Ty thought the question over. "Whenever possible, the sooner the better."

Sabi nodded and left. Ty shook her head. That was one extraordinary girl walking through the door.

At the same time, someone banged on the door three times. Kehel. She looked at herself. Only half-dressed. Curse it all.

The bell rang.

Oh blast.

Kehel opened the door, threw her shirt on over her shoulders without a word, and dragged her over to the Mess. Concentrating, she made a small bubble thought and told it to go sit on her desk. There it would sit, waiting for Sabi.

"I don't believe it," murmured Terry as Ty walked out onto the corridor and straight into Kehel, who made to apologize but then quieted. "I really don't believe it."

Ty smiled her evil smile. "Believe it, cub, for the Tehea comes to teach the ways of the hunt."

"Really?" Otian asked eagerly.

Ty laughed bitterly and shook her head. "No, not really. But we are going to learn to track today, because I know they are here somewhere, doing harm. Once we find them, the Tehea will take care of them. You will—."

"We won't fight?" Leej said, outraged.

"No, you will all go back to Kehel's rooms and pretend we are all there, studying. Once I return to you, you will know the teachers will come to see if we are all doing what we are supposed to be doing as opposed to fighting—which they will suspect we have been doing. I know how to cover my tracks. I can't risk the rest of you yet."

Leej looked at her with pure envy and turned away. Ty's inside writhed. She turned him right back around, grabbed his jaw, and flung him into the wall right behind him. Startled, then furious, he snarled. She bumped him into the wall once more.

"The Second Law is to serve," she said dangerously as she felt his blood rush faster form the spell. "The Third Law is to obey. You obey the leader of the pack. I said today I hunt alone. I will not repeat myself in future. Be ye warned."

Leej just nodded. _Fair enough_, she thought, and let him go. She had to make a stand that looked firm. The rest of the boys stared at her, fright, respect, and admiration shining in their faces. She ignored them and showed the, the door to her room.

She rapped twice, hard. "This means stay put."

She rapped three times, gave it a hard slap, then punched it hard enough to rattle the hinges. Her knuckles bled and she ignored the pain in them. "This means let me or go in, shut the door behind you."

She rapped the door once, snapped her fingers, and stuck to fingers into the opening under the door. "This means two people outside, both friendly. If there are more, place the necessary fingers."

Last but not least, she banged with her palm hard three times on the door. "That means trouble, run. All clear?"

They all nodded. She smiled, took the herbs from her pocket, then put one on the right padded shoe and the other on the left. Signaling the door to Kehel's room, she motioned them to go inside. Once they were inside and the door was closed, she grinned and felt for pain. Once she had it locked into her memory, she jumped on the ceiling, and followed.


	15. Hunt Training

The Loosetongue worked unbelievably well. She now knew the names of all the bullies. Name, years of age, training, and such other things. The Numbtongue had worked well too. They would say nothing at all, and thanks to her small, personal addition, they wouldn't remember the events of the night. She had bruised all their jaws to make sure no eyebrows would be raised over the second herb, then glided silently back to Kehel's room to inform her pack.

As she dropped from the ceiling, she rapped once on the door and slipped a finger under it. She felt the boys inside jump, then open the door. They let her in, and she shook her head, motioning to her own room. Gathering their things, they followed her into the rooms.

She went in first, closed the door behind her, and motioned for Sabi to hide in her roomy closet, to listen carefully and remember. Wordlessly, the child had done so. None of the boys realized the exchange she had just had with her maid.

They went in and she reported. None asked how she knew, or if they would remember. The older boys looked pleased. Kehel looked fascinated. Ty felt a great deal of selfish pride, though she pushed it away.

"So what now, Tehea?" Terry asked eagerly. "How do we proceed?"

Ty patted his head as she might have an eager puppy's. "This is the hunt, my children. The hunt requires training, as I was trained before you and now you will be trained. From tomorrow on we train, and protect, and then," she licked her lips as they shivered, "Then we hunt."

"I don't understand," Leej growled exasperatedly. "What do you mean by all these words?"

Ty was frustrated enough to slap him against a wall again, but thought better than to do it out of temper. Now she understood what they needed, Terry voiced it.

"A demonstration? Pretty please?"

Ty sighed and looked at the boy Terry was. Childish, perhaps, but sweet. Very, very sweet, and thought she didn't believe in blandness, she knew that he would keep the pack together when she couldn't. Looking at the target, she used her eyes to glace around.

It was pitch dark, near midnight. The pack had helped each other to finish their assignments so that this time to practice would be possible. The dark forest loomed around them, but Ty was not scared of the dark, or wary of it, like they were, though they denied it. The darkness was her mantle, and she liked it that way.

Ty pointed at the object hanging from a bull's-eye or target. It was a small arrow, faintly visible at its post ten feet away. She was trying to teach them stealth, and all they could thing of was noisy knight movements. She would have to show them.

"I will get to that point, but you will not see me go, you will not see me return," she said, one more whisper of a voice within the darkness. When they nodded and concentrated, Ty leaped for the tree right above her. Making no noise, she crawled from tree to tree, then her arm leaped out of no-where and took the arrow from the target. All the boys saw was the slight flash of a shadow, then nothing unusual. She landed on the ground behind them. They turned around in a flash.

Ty laughed. "Understand?"

The boys looked at one another. Their eyes said no. Ty sighed.

"My cubs, you need to become part of the darkness. If you need to go around, go around. If you need to go over, go over. If you can make yourselves invisible, be my guests, but unless you can get that arrow without me seeing you, we are going to do this until the Ordeal. Now ponder a way to get at the arrow!"

They sighed, and begun trying. They made progress that night, but not much. She would have to think of a better way to do this.


	16. Three Sharp Raps on the Door

A sharp pattern of knocks came to the door. The boys stood up immediately, then listened carefully for five seconds. They froze.

Three sharp bangs on the door. All looked to Kehel. He nodded. They needed to get out of here, and fast. As Kehel undid the small latch on the hidden floorboard, jumped in, and began to clear the way for the others, Otian jumped in after him.

"King's Own, searching for a feline-child," he murmured. They all hardened. They knew one boy who acted very much like a feline, and knew the King's Own could be looking for no other. Following Ty's emergency-for-King's-Own-plan, they headed for the twin hatch and exit located in the kitchens.

Someone screamed, then another person snarled. The boys looked at each other inside the tunnel under the floorboard, all of them having lowered themselves into it. The words of their Tehea ran in their minds and between them, a living echo.

"_This means let me or go in, shut the door behind you."_

That, though heavy enough, did not ring within their minds alone. The laws, and their promises, did as well. Kehel felt his heart ripping between duty and need…

"_The third law is to obey. You obey the leader without doubt or fear of consequence."_

"_The fourth law is to follow. This is the most important rule. All the pack follows the pack leader, their confidence placed in his hands without regret. When the path twists and turns, trust the leader."_

"_What happens if, for any reason, the leader went astray?"_

"_When the leader of the pack is vulnerable, the pack chooses. Remember, the first law is to protect. Protect the pack with all it takes, with all you have to give. And if obedience messes with the first two laws, what do you do?"_

The boys looked to him. He nodded silently as they all proclaimed, shouted, and cried out what they had said then, what they knew in their hearts that they must do, what they would do now that the choice rested with the pack. It weighed on them, but they would do it. The First Law was to protect.

"Toss it out the window!"

Bracing themselves on sides of the wide opening from the large floorboard and to the promise they had made their Tehea, they leapt from the hole that lead to the tunnel.

Something in their blood sang to them, _trouble, trouble, trouble_. They ignored it. The trouble was not theirs, it was Ty's and they were going to save her or die trying.

They burst through the door, launching themselves outside. As Terry, Otian and Leej launched themselves at the attackers, Kehel took a moment to realize something the others had not…

"Take prisoners!" he shouted. "This isn't the King's Own! Find out who they are and their business here!"

Pages were now emerging from the rooms that lined the hall. Terry nodded to Leej, who nodded and pulled away from the fighting, slamming people back into their rooms and quieting the noise. 'If the King's Own heard, they were all as good as heavily pounded', Ty had drilled into their brains. They were not about to forget anything the Tehea had told them in a hurry.

"Martyr!" Otian said loudly from a corner. Kehel ran to him and saw on the floor, lip split, a deep cut on the back of the skull, a raw black gash on a thigh that had been wrapped unceremoniously with a leather thong and tied tight, her braids tinged with blood and black dust, Ty.

"Get me up, Kehel," she growled. Kehel got to the floor on his ankles, took both her arms in his and pulled her upright. She signaled Otian to guard the door to her room and motioned Kehel to follow her inside her own room. She whistled a small bit of a tune Kehel had never heard and Sabi leapt from the closet.

"Mistress, what have you done to yourself again?" she demanded, running to a corner and drawing from it a small pot with a cracked lid.

"Again?" Kehel asked, raising an eyebrow as Sabi took from the pot a bit of some green liquid and rubbing it on Ty's wounds. It looked very painful, but the Tehea did not wince.

"Yes, again," Ty growled, placing her hand over the wound, muttering something and then seeing it heal as the hand was removed. She got up and faced Kehel as eye-to-eye as she could, being ten inches shorter.

"I've been watching this carefully, Kehel, and watching it for a while. This bullying appears to be bigger than us, bigger than the palace, bigger than Corus. Something's coming up on that horizon, Martyr, and we need to stop it."

"Or?" asked Kehel, bending over to look her directly in the eye. Ty's eyes and figure became hard as stone.

"Or we'll all be dead by the end of the month."

She strode past him, flung her door open and looked to the fighting. Four men, hardly more than boys, were only bloody rags on the floor. Three remained. Ty whistled to Terry and Mel, who took them and hauled them through her door and into her room. She then turned to Leej and Otian.

"I want this vermin under ground where I can't see it," she told them, her voice an angry purr. "If I can find 'em, you'll be in tomorrow's stew, so get on to it."

Nodding, they left. Just as they were silently turning to corner, Otian asked, "the blood?"

Ty looked like stone once more. "Burn your clothes, I don't care if you're wearing naught but your skin on your way back, or simply pass by your rooms to get other garments, but burn those you're wearing and scrub yourselves raw. Their essences can be tracked otherwise. And under them fingernails too, Bazhir, or I will smell the filth on you. Right to it and back to your Tehea for a meeting before bed. Make haste, I like to sleep at night."

They nodded and left at a swift gait, imitating Ty's own, very carefully made jog for noisy knights who really shouldn't be making noise. Spitting on the side of the wall where the blood was, she bent down and untied a millimeter of her left earlobe braid.

"Frakhel gone," she said, speaking a word so rude that it should not be uttered, a word meaning the most heinous of crimes. Spitting on the floor once more, she retied the braid and sealed it, watching the blood disappear from the floor. Growling slightly, she went inside her rooms to interrogate and wait for Otian and Mel to return so she could report.

The hunt, as she had predicted, had begun. Now was time to see whether they were predator or prey.


	17. Impersonal

"What do you have for us, Tehea?" Mel asked, sitting down opposite her as she took her seat on her bed, Leej on her left and Kehel on her right, Otian on Mel's right and Terry on Mel's left.

"Bad tidings, cubs," she said, drawing from her night table a case filled with bloody rags displayed in a glass box. Within it was something the boys winced to see. Otian looked at her, appalled, clearly struggling to keep his stomach down.

"Words may lie, but blood knows naught but what runs with it," she told her pack, no pity in her eyes at all but cold, deep rage. "This is bigger than us, my pups, much bigger. It is up to us to figure out just how big it is. The boys were after me to try and slay me—I was too close.

But not close enough, cubs of mine, not close enough. You all know the rules—I know the odds. We need to get the Lower City immediately and find out what exactly this is about and why—because I will hang any man who tells me it is about the king—this disgusting bit of frakhel messed with my pack.

They were originally just trying out weapons on the pages, I found out from the filth whose balls lie in that box. That was bad enough. I left a note to the King's Own in sawdust telling them to stop this. But we all know how their lot works—not at all till it's big and outta their hands. I aint sitting around waiting for them to realize this is bigger than they think.

Boys, this is not about mindless hits. It aint about trying out stupid weapons. This is gangs if I've ever seen 'em at work. Something's a-brewing, and I am going to find out what it is. Can't have the palace finding it out, mind. This is sommat I work alone in, I thought to myself. Y'all know you can trust your Tehea. But here be the complication: this is big. If it's a revolution, we tell the Own and butt out. But if it aint—

"If it aint?" asked Mel tensely.

"If it aint, we follow the rule of the hunt," she said quietly, shooting a glare at Mel that, if the world was of its own mind and rightful within its rules, would have turned him to stone. "We watch and wait, my pack. This is a mindless gang squabble—now. If it develops against the Crown, we tell the Own. This is impersonal, we take it so. We are pages, cubs. We find trouble and tell superiors."

"What about that," said Terry, motioning fearlessly at the case. Shang were trained against skittishness because of disembowelment. "Can't they track it back to us?

Ty's evil grin flooded her face as the boys fought shivers. "They will try," she purred, a guttural tone behind her speech. "I'm counting on it."


	18. Short Period Of Calm?

Mel ran through her door as Ty was putting on her breeches. "Gang," he gasped. There was a deep gash on his throat. Ty motioned him toward Sabi, who was rummaging the corner for the healing potion. Mel panted as he lowered himself to her bed and she pulled the strings on her breeches tight about her to make them fit more tightly about her hips.

"Where?" she growled. This was the third hit of the week, god's all willing they could find out what was going on before the superiors got wind of this. They had been attacked progressively closer to the Page's Wings, but always far enough from it that if the gang had to run, which they often did, they would be near enough to the forest that they could dive into it an disappear. This was frustrating enough for the Panther, but the fact that her pack were becoming heavily scarred was not to Ty's temper any kind of help. It was a knife in the ribs. When she got her hands on them…oh, she would castrate them all.

"Left Own Wing," he grated. His breath was becoming harder as he fought to breathe. Ty placed a warm hand under his jaw and said, quietly, "not a word to the others." Slipping a hand behind her back, she took hold of a braid and pooled her magic into her most loyal cub. It took her a moment to heal the artery that was dripping liters of blood into his windpipe, but a moment was all she had.

A great crash was heard in the direction of the Left Wing. Motioning to Sabi, Ty closed Mel's eyes and dashed in the direction of the noise. Pages were emerging from either side of the corridors. Ty leaped for the ceiling and summoned the panther, asking for the greatest speed possible. Together they sprinted the distance to the Left Wing in less than three minutes Ty dropped from the ceiling, grabbed Otian's limp body with one arm and groaning with his unexpected weight, she took hold of Leej with her other arm and whistled for Terry, who was still able to run though in bad shape, to run with her. Kehel was sitting spy in the Lower City that night. Ticking off all the names on her list, she took to the ceiling and dashed to the cross-point between the hall that lead to the wing of Mel and the others and the one that lead to her own.

Calling an owl call, she caught Terry's attention. She motioned for him to dash to the boy's rooms and patch them up with haste, then let the bodies fall onto the Shang. She then rushed to her room, directed Mel through a hidden door on her floor to his room, and made to look as if she'd been asleep. Sabi slipped into her cot at Ty's left and made to look as if asleep, then dashed to clear the air so that the strong smell of the potion could not be felt and leaped into bed again. Nodding to the child, she made to look as if asleep for when the Own burst through her door as they had through the other doors in the Wing.

Muttering something mindless, she made herself look groggy. The man in her doorway shut her door muttering apologies and rushed to check the other rooms. It was then that Ty sat bolt upright.

"Kehel!" she gasped, and Sabi leaped from her bed and into the closet's tiny trapdoor that lead to Kehel's room. Minutes later she came back, signaling that the Own had assumed she was Kehel. Kissing her forehead, Ty signaled the child to sleep.

As she made to really sleep, Ty allowed the Panther to growl within her. This was enough. The Tehea was going to the Lower City to find out what this is about—and wasn't going to leave without answers.

The weeks passed. The hits became more frequent and dropped the pretense of being unplanned. They were constant, planned—but quiet. Hit and run was the procedure. This frustrated Ty out of rationality. She needed prisoners, but none hung around long enough to be caught.

Sabi had proved to be a very important part of the pack after all. She had named herself their healer and, true to her word, cared for all their wounds save Ty's, who would let no one do it for obvious reasons—she could heal on her very own, thank you very much.

The other members of the pack had proved to be exceptional in their own way as well. Though Otian gave the impression of being weak of arms and strong of build, he was the strength within the pack. His arms were the strongest Ty had ever seen—he had, after all, lifted her six-hundred pound desk with one arm and not even broken a sweat—and his build was almost rock—as was his stomach, they all discovered—so they allowed him to test meals for poison before tucking in. they knew people of the Lower City worked in the kitchens, they were unwilling to take their chances on poisoned food when they needed to be well-fed in order to fight.

Terry was all he had been praised to be by the Wildcat—an incredible lad with a great deal of skill with hand combat, irregular blades, a staff and—to their very great surprise—a peculiar talent with lock-picks, all save Ty's own, which melted his picks whenever he tried to find out why her room remained locked at all hours.

Mel had proved to be more than just a good speaker and leader—he was their weapons master. Pages—for good reasons obvious to the pack—were forbidden weapons with metal of any kind unless they were in the armory. Staffs were allowed, but no others. Mel had—by a ways that Ty had no idea and suspected she would not want to know—found a way to smuggle a certain stash of good knives, daggers and glaives of origin unknown into a small area under a loose plank.

Leej, proud Bazhir for more reasons than one, was clever—and perhaps mad—enough to know where and when the enemy would strike. He had asked Ty for the responsibility of spying on the Lower City and she had given it to him, seeing how after two weeks of watching he had their entire mentality figured out. He could predict them as much as any cock could predict when the sun would rise.

Kehel was famous enough for being tall—and well behaved enough for the superiors to avoid their notice and suspicion—that he could gather news from all over. He was not a spy, but more than just a gossip—he knew and held the secrets of the entire palace and most of Corus. Whatever brawl happened, Kehel would know. He was, in a way, a great success of a gossip—which he reminded them always that he was not a gossip—and was in charge with knowing what the enemy knew and what he did not, and was in charge of keeping their operations secret. Moreover, he had the sturdiest hand on a sword Ty had seen for many years and a genius with sciences and arithmetic, something none of the others could grasp and was thus what kept their studies afloat at all.

Ty's position went beyond Tehea. She was the leader, the planner, the schemer, the thinker of the group. Quiet, silent, unscrupulous, she could outwit them all and always had a trick or two up her sleeve. Her skill was not only the keeping of the pack, but also any blade that was not too heavy and was flexible to such a point that the Wildcat would look at her and ask if she was made of rubber. She mastered all that required thinking.

With Otian as strength, Leej as strategist, Sabi as healer, Terry as fighter, Kehel as academic, Mel as weapon's master and Ty as leader, there was no way they were going to be defeated. If, for any reason, the pack's mood went to the ground…well, there always was Otian's sense of humor—either grand or terrible to the point that all begged him to remain quiet—he always managed to keep the pack together.


	19. Bad Mood 'Dancing'

Three weeks later, Ty's life progressed as it always had—except that lone day. That one day that had triggered it all.

Ty had been having a bad day—but it was about to get worse. She had gotten up rather late and had had another little problem—its name was Kehel and it did not want to wake that morning. She had, after three minutes of trying to talk him out of bed, taken to a better idea—she had launched his water basin, in its totality, over his head. One could say cold water did not top his list of favorite things in the morning.

After rushing him out of his bedclothes and into shirt and breeches—something he complained greatly about and didn't get a choice in, seeing as she told him quite fervently and threateningly that if he did not want her to see him bare he could wake _himself_ up in the goddess's cursed morning and not leave it to _her_.

Thus she bathed in a great hurry, no longer caring whether he saw her or not. Once again—as happened every morning—he refused to watch or to jump in the bath-tub and she had dragged him in fully clothed—though now she was developing a good deal of muscle over it, seeing as he weighed a much more than she and was not a one to move when told, obedience vow be damned.

Then she had told him to wait for her in the Mess and had run to get their things in their rooms. Sabi had greeted her and she did every morning, taking her things with a kind smile and rushing her back through the door so she wouldn't be late in getting Kehel's things into his rooms. So she had sprinted into the Mess and been on time—the only good thing about a terrible day—and joined the pack for breakfast.

Otian had begun the morning with a whole bunch of bad jokes until it was he laughing and the rest begging for mercy. Then he had decided to being on jokes that were less than flattering to ladies—and Ty's short patience begun to wane.

"Oh, I've got one!" he said gleefully. "What do women and the King's Own have in common?"

"What?" Terry said eagerly. Kehel watched Ty warily, as if expecting a bomb to go off in the room.

"That after midnight, no one listens to 'em anymore!" Otian said triumphantly as the pack burst into laugher—or most of the pack did. Ty was turning more and more red, and Kehel was becoming rather nervous. The fact that he knew why this was getting to her told him exactly how bad the explosion would go off—if and when it did.

"Oh, and what do you call a woman pregnant with a girl?" Otian continued, turning a blind eye to Kehel's mute attempts to make him cease the comedy show before it triggered Ty's infamous temper. "The perfect cleaning kit!"

Ty slammed her cutlery down on the table, making all the others jump. Otian noticed her color and paled. He seemed confused, but also to have some sort of understanding as to Ty's present lack of patience.

"Do you know, then," she said quietly, her eyes locked on her silverware, "why the Gods made men first and women second?"

The pack shook their heads. Kehel seemed to realize that they were in for something unpleasant, however.

"Because experiments," she purred in her warning purr that signaled she was very angry, "are made on rats first and humans later."

No one laughed. They all looked too startled to speak. This suited Ty just fine. Rising from her seat, she said, calmly though menacingly, "Otian, I will have no more jokes like that or so help me I will hang you from the nearest tree. Practice courts, in ten minutes, cubs. Your Tehea is in a very active mood, and you will feel it if anyone will. I warn you not to test my temper."

She walked calmly and placed her almost-full tray of food on the clearing rack, taking a roll and a bit of water for her canteen, then walked out of the Mess and headed for the Practice Courts. Taking up her staff, she dropped it straight back into the rack. She needed to practice hand combat and wind herself before she knocked the stuffing out of anyone, which was not recommendable.

Terry walked in. He looked concerned. "Tehea," he said quietly but firmly, the authoritative tone of his training, "what is wrong? We were just making fun, I don't see why you take this so to chest."

Ty sighed. Terry, her warm and caring cub, always willing to place himself in the line of fire of her temper to make her feel better. She owed him better than the load of screaming welling up inside her. She forced herself to be calm.

"Terry, I am feline more than you will understand or have already come to terms with. With felines, the female leads the pack. Insulting the leader of the pack burns in your blood. I simply couldn't take it."

Terry sighed, then gave her a one-armed hug. "Its okay, Tehea," he said. "We wont pick on not a single more Tehea no more, honest. I will warn the lads to avoid it, if it pleases you." She smiled at him.

As he let go of her and turned to head back to the Mess, she said, "Stallion, grant me a dance?"

Turning, he raised an inquiring eyebrow. He didn't understand, blast him, she realized. She took the stand for hand-to-hand combat, ready for high block.

Whispering a slight "ah", he came forward and took his place. Just as she was about to begin, Mel, Kehel and Leej came in, looking rather worried and keeping their distance. She smiled to them that she was okay, and they sighed with relief. Terry signaled he would explain later.

"What are you doing with our boy Terry, Tehea?" Mel asked, charming and smiling as ever.

"I'm going to have a round with him," she said, resuming her stance. Leej laughed.

"All right boys," he said. "Say your goodbyes to our Tehea. She's as good as in the dirt now."

"Our Ty?" Mel asked, outraged. "Now, listen Leej: Terry may be the Stallion, but if anyone can beat my Tehea's speed I will gladly bathe in the mud, and you know how I am about being clean."

"Loyalty appreciated, my blonde cub," Ty said to Mel, nodding to him and then to Terry, blocking his high strike. As they continued the dance, the boys made bets on how long either boy would last. By ten minutes both had dropped the dance and had come to full-out combat. Both were sweating heavily and each applying their personal skills: Ty's being speed and flexibility, Terry's being tricks and strength of weight.

Ty decided she was going to use feminine strengths to win now, seeing as Terry had had his little fun off tricks. Diving under a high strike, she went down to feline three paws on ground and one on elbow. Spinning and leaving all her weight on her head, now on the floor, she spun so that her feet whirred past his face, then pushed herself quickly to her elbows and taking his feet from under him. Terry was not a one to fall easily, however. Leaping up, she made for the ceiling, holding on to a log of wood right above her opponent.

As he shouted something or other and Mel and Leej gasped, Kehel cheered. Taking it to heart, she dove down on Terry, landing on his shoulders and driving a knee right to his back. He groaned as he fell to the ground, then grabbed her with strong arms and threw her off him.

As she went flying, he stretched out an arm and grabbed hers about an inch from the wall and threw her to the ceiling…

Very, very dumb move.

She struck the ceiling with skill and then dropped lightly to the ground, landing on bent knees but still somewhat standing, her arm between her knees and back bent. As his jaw dropped, she straightened and bared her hands to clawed fists.

"A feline like me," she said maliciously, "lands upright."

Leaping up, she drove her knee into Terry's windpipe and he landed with a thump on his back. She raised an eyebrow.

"Learned anything from your Tehea?" she asked him.

"Oh yes," he chocked, smiling tightly. "Beware him on bad days, for he cheats and has a thing for the ceiling."

Ty's already fragile temper pulsed, and she pressed a black-nailed hand into his windpipe, making his smile vanish.

"Just because," she growled, "my tricks are different from yours does not mean I cheat, Stallion. Challenge my honor one more time and a gasp will be all the breath you'll get. The Tehea schools his cubs into obedience."

As he nodded, she released him and stood, then struck out a hand to help him up. He took it gratefully as she looked him over. _Bad bruising, nothing broken or sprained, just a bad muscle-ache to come_, she noted in herself as well as her cub. As she walked calmly over to her pack behind him, she heard him muttering about wanting lilies for his funeral.

"Who's next?" she asked the group. Otian approached from a corner.

"I made my Tehea mad, and I will pay for it," he said tightly. He seemed to have realized it had been he who had started her temper, and he didn't want anyone else to have to pay for it. Terry looked at him as if he were mad as he drew up with the group and looked fixedly at Ty.

"You're a dead man, Otian," Terry gasped to him. "It was fun knowing you." The other boys set about remaking the bets. Just as Otian drew up with Ty and opened his mouth to speak, the other pages walked in, followed by the Weed.

The group rushed to their practice positions. Ty placed a hand briefly on Otian's shoulder before proceeding to her place. Otian's face displayed a hesitant smile. She smiled back at him, then took her place on the lines.

Practice was a catastrophe. Many pages tried to get to Ty with insults, trying her temper further. She drove three into the wall opposite and received a week's armor polishing duty for it. Growling, she ran to her rooms to get her books and was consequently late to her lesson, getting her a bit more work than she could handle—worst yet, it was counts. Again. Kehel offered to do it for her, but the mere unfair thought of it pulsed in her veins.

During lunch, one of the squires collided with Ty and thus dumped her full of veggies. Though he apologized over an over, it did no good for Ty, and she swallowed her food hurriedly before rushing to bathe. Kehel followed her, guarding the door to the Bathing House as she scrubbed furiously, scraping her skin raw. They were both late to the next lesson.

And so it went on, and on, and on. Ty was close to emotional collapse, her nails having carved a tight trail in her hands from her digging them into her palms to stop herself from punching every page who called her something or other. By dinner, they bled freely and her temper was at the breaking point.

Then the gang hit.


	20. Too Far Gone

"Fabulous," she said murderously. "I will strip each and every one of them apart. Physical release, just what I need."

"We had better hurry to," Kehel said, glancing to the massive hourglass in the corner of the Mess that was still visible. "We have only five minutes until First Bell, and we need to be out before then in order to train, so five minutes is all we have."

"Which is four more than I'll need," Ty said quietly, sprinting to the place where the gang had hit with her pack behind her.

It as then, as she ran, that a scream throttled through the pack-spell she had cast on them all. She stopped, grinding the halt at once. Kehel and Mel both slammed into her, but she held her ground.

"The pack-spell," she breathed. As Tehea, only she would hear the scream of the pack-spell. "One of my cubs is in trouble!"

She let her awareness fly, then bolted for the Left Page Wing, Mel and Kehel on her heels. Where were Leej and Terry? Who was it that sent the pounding through her blood-spell?

As she turned into the Wing, she felt the stink of fear in the air. Fear, pain, sweat—lust, was that it too? Why would anyone feel lust in the page's wing?

"No," she gasped, then dove into the wing as color dropped from hers and her pack's faces as they saw the blood on the floor, and all were leading her to one door…

"No!" she screamed, diving into her room. There was blood on her floor, and an unusual stink in the room. "Kehel, Mel, find the others. Get them here, NOW!"

As they scampered, Ty's awareness flooded the palace. She felt Mel there, and Kehel, and somewhere in the distance…was that Otian? Yes, Otian was safe—

She crept toward a corner of her room. There, two drops of blood lay on the floor, but the blood looked different from the other kind. When the other had been dilute, imbedded with sweat, this one—

Her awareness told her Terry was okay, but she couldn't yet sigh with relief. Something was very, very wrong here—

Then it hit her. Hit her with all the potency that was ever possible. On the floor, near the drops of saturated blood—

A small piece of tissue with the oddest of smells—

"No," she croaked, taking a finger and prodding the drops of blood. _Normal blood dries, but there is a special kind of blood that dries differently. It covers itself first in a layer of dryness, then begins evaporating the water within it._ The words of the village healer. Words she would never forget--

"No," she rasped, louder, looking at the tissue on the floor next to the drops of blood and feeling her stomach fight to get free of her grip. The strip of muscle, that little piece of tissue, it couldn't be—

But it was, and the gods showed her no mercy in telling her this. As she fought to keep her control, she realized why there had been that stink in the room, that stink that only she could recognize—

A hymen. The drops of untainted blood—

Virginity blood.

"_NO!_" she screamed, the sound tearing her lungs apart.

The smell, the lust that tainted her room, the virginity blood, the hymen, broken on her floor—

The pack smashed through the door, then froze at the sight and powerful smell of the room. From the corner of it, Ty drew a single lock of shiny black hair…

As she turned and placed the lock of hair in her always-empty locket, she looked at them with eyes filled with utter hatred, with the stink of death, without mercy and without pity but only complete rage. Frakhel. The most heinous of crimes…

…The rape of a child.

As they shivered at the sight of her, her magic rose her a few inches from the ground, her body pulsing with naught but poison and the hatred that drove men to the killing edge of insanity faster than any bird could fly, her body shining with silver, raw power of evil—

"Sabi has been raped and kidnapped," she told them, no emotion in her voice. They all went white as death, but Ty was whiter, deadlier than ever before, pulsing with the raw power it took to make the dead rock in their graves.

"**_NOW IT'S PERSONAL."_ **


	21. Panther In The Light

Ty's rage was heard throughout the palace--and throughout Corus the piercing shriek, it was said or whispered—though no one but her pack knew it was her—had created a monumental uproar: Numair had jumped and woken in his sleep, run off to waken the king—who had been roused by the shriek and needed no help getting up but was furious for explanations—and had roused with his help a better part of the magical populace of Tortal. Daine had flown in eagle shape all the way to Pirate's Swoop to fetch Alanna,—Lioness and King's Champion—her husband and adopted father, who had happened to be on holiday. Through Nealen of Queenscove, Kelandry—Protector of the Small—had heard what that strange shriek had been and was presently charging toward the palace.

Ty grinned as Kehel reported this news. If the king had heard, surely whoever had raped Sabi also had—and if he had the lightest shred of intelligence, was running for the hills that instant. Her cold fury for him was such that she would be willing to give up her shield to get at him.

Her pack was not murderous, like her—they had no cold fury—theirs was a hot rage, and at the slightest mention of Sabi, their healer and charge, they would become red with anger and clench their fists. She had been their responsibility only a little less than she had been Ty's.

"Pack," she said to them icily when they met up a week later in the Practice Courts, "this has gone on long enough. It used to be none of my business—but an attack on my maid is the last drop, the last straw on a pile of hay. My limited patience with this filth is gone."

She looked into their maddened faces and knew they, too, had taken this to chest and would fight to the last breath. Fabulous. She would need all of them to pull this off. She had explored the city at night, had noticed how much of the populace was now simply refugees from a war off in the sea. Many getting off the ships—all coming to Corus for a reason she couldn't fathom, but reasons are often unimportant. Facts were, and facts are that they needed every man, every sword.

"Look to your Tehea, who guides you and protects you," she said, standing. They stayed seated, and as she towered over them, sweating lightly, she asked, "Would you trust him on earth, here and beyond, to lead you whichever form he take?"

They all nodded, wary, anxious, slightly frightened; none knew exactly what Ty was capable of, though Kehel had a pretty good, however un-detailed, idea. They had no idea how abnormal Ty was in comparison to themselves.

"My pack, your Tehea leads the pack because he must, because he can, because it is the duty of the powers given to him. Observe who he is!"

Before their eyes, for the first time, she called in the Panther completely. Before their eyes her skin changed, coming the dark tone of the Panther's own, fur appearing thin, slick and shining. As they gasped, she closed her eyes and leaned forward, taking on her prowler's stance. Her tail whipped free of her breeches. Placing her paws in front of her, she walked carefully to the middle of the circle they made, sat herself down in the middle of their ring as her clothes fell from her, and opened her eyes.

Leej's mouth was open, gaping like a fish as he fought to breathe. Mel's eyes were filled with awe, Terry's with admiration. Otian's eyes were filled with glee. Kehel's looked to her with fierce approval and reverence. She smiled at him, and at him only, before turning to her pack.

"I am what I am by blood-right, given not born," she told them in her true, purring voice, which stank of danger and femininity. "When I was very young, I came across a panther in the high-grass to the sides of our castle. It seemed to smile at me, and then pounced on me and gashed my arm. Its blood moved into my wound from where I drew it at its back. When I returned and for years since, within my head I heard a voice that was not mine. No one believed me but my nurse told me there was hope that the 'evil taint' would leave me alone. At age seven she snuck me out to see a priest who claimed to the 'half-feline'. When he tried to free me from her, she sprung out of my head and into my awareness, tapped into my only and rare magic, and struck gold."

Leej looked petrified. "She?" he squeaked.

"I am the Panther," she boomed, "and she is me. I am not who I was born, but who I was freed to be. Panther is she. Can you live with this?"

The pack nodded, all but Kehel.

"He or she I don't care," he said, voice filled with wonder and pride. "She is my Tehea, my leader and my friend, the best of the pack. Male or female, I will serve."

Otian smiled at him, then stuck out his arm to place on top of Kehel's outstretched one. The rest of the pack followed suit. Ty placed herself in such a position that she could lean forward without tripping over the clothes gripping her. She placed her forehead to the hands, changed back with a silver flash, and rose.

"Plans then."


	22. Plans And Thier Disruption

The plan was hatched. Ty would risk everything she had to get Sabi back. The others were right behind her. They would all go down trying to get her back or live to regret it, but Mithros willing they were going to try.

The boys were stationed where they'd be most useful. Kehel was spymaster: all information was given to him, digested and processed, then passed on to the Tehea. Ty, armed with this knowledge, sent Mel to look for the right weapons to protect them from each possible assault and trained the pack in their use. Leej, as teacher's pet, raided their libraries and listened in and spied on the many gang's names, members, and organized a list of crimes against each, passing the reports later to Kehel, who filed them and passed them on to Ty. He was, of them all, the one shouldering the most work, for though Ty organized the pack, its movement and actions, he was the one keeping them afloat. 'On matters of book, to Kehel we look' was the pack saying.

'What of Terry?' say you. Terry has, with Ty, a risky job but for different reasons. Should Ty be caught and forced magically to talk, the pack's secrets and information would be exposed, and in a matter of minutes the gangs would be on them, but not soon enough to kill her—the King would charge her with treason of a low kind and send her off to prison. For Terry, being caught by the gangs meant not the King's Mercy or lack thereof, but certain death. As the Stallion, he was the most skilled in fighting, as Ty figured out who were members of the gangs that meant them harm and passed the names and addresses to Terry along with the times of the Hunt in which Ty was not busy, 'missing' reports landed on the desk of the Lord Provost.

Yet in the middle of that same week came a real threat to their quiet plans—or rather, a pair of threats, both called many things, but one in common.

Lady Knight.

Indeed, Kel and Alanna had at last arrived to Corus. Kel was a greater threat than Alanna—as King's Champion, Alanna had to worry if this was on attempt on the king's life, but Kel was furious, having spoken to the Provost about the missing people. Thinking that someone of high position was having the weak murdered—which was not without truth, seeing as to be a page one must be noble—was driving the knight practically insane. Naturally, long training taught her not to show it, but inside she fumed, and Ty knew it—the Panther could smell it.

One night, however, Kel noticed how quiet Ty was.

"Tykel," she said, taking hold of Ty's arm as she was about to enter a classroom. "A word, please."

She had been expecting this. Her impatient mind told her to give the knight a piece of her mind and tell her to get lost, common sense made it shut up. Ty walked with the Lady Knight around a corner and faced her. "Lady Knight," she greeted her.

"Tykel, I have noticed your secrecy, and have seen your group. Most are older yourself, and though there is no law against it…you are often rather crude with all authority figures, and I recognize a secret keeper when I see one." At this she paused, then leaned against the wall. "Do you hide something?"

_Curse her,_ the Panther spat_. She knows too much. Call Terry. He'll trap her and you can slit her throat. _

_She works for the King, _she replied._ If I do that, we're busted._

_Human politics?_

_Indeed._

_What a waste of time._

_I _know.

Ty thought over her being a girl, a Panther, an assassin—at this rate she was becoming one—and the leader of a pack that broke the King's laws daily. The question seemed ridiculous.

"Doesn't everyone?" she asked mildly.

"Do you work against the King?" Kel asked, her face passive. Ty knew better than to think her that stupid, however.

This was harder a question. Against the King? For the King? Really, she worked in neither direction. The King's protection was not yet a concern of hers. She worked mainly against the gangs that were making of Corus their playground, and working tirelessly trying to find out who all those immigrating people were, for day by day more and more immigrants came to Corus, all in some unrecognized pilgrimage. Most even formed part in the gangs that worked against her. Really, her concern was Corus. It was foolish of the King to think himself so high on her priority list.

"If by keeping the people of Corus safe I work for him," she replied, "then I am not against him."

Kel's brows snapped together. Bingo. Confusion on the horizon! Warn the boatmen to flee to the coast; this could get pretty personal pretty quickly.

"You seek to help the people of Corus?"

Ty kept from rolling her eyes with extreme difficulty.

Duh.

"Yes," Ty replied. "I work for them and against them. I make sure the Lower City sleeps at night and does not reek of blood and death."

Kel's expression was carefully blank. "You know what befalls Corus," she said. It was not a question. She put a hand on Ty's shoulder.

"Then I will try to help you," she said quietly. "If you can trust me with your secret, I will help you."

"I am honored, Lady Knight," said Ty. Then she frowned. She must not put down her pack, or place them in any dangers. The first rule of the Tehea was to protect her own, monarchy be damned. Kelandry replied to orders of her king.

"I ask you, Lady," Ty proceeded with utmost care, slowly, firmly, emotionlessly and harshly, "can you be trusted to act for the good of Corus, should that go against the wishes of your king?"

Kel's face remained blank. "I protect the people whose shouts for help I hear," she replied. "Let Alanna look after the King. She can bare him more than I can anyway."

Ty nodded. "Left Squire's Wing, third room to the far left, second bell after dinner, wait until I arrive," she said, then rounded the corner and walking into her class, whispering apologies to Tkaa and signaling to the pack with her head, then telling them what they needed to know by ways of good hand signals.

"Why _my_ room?" read Terry's hands.

Ty made a rude masturbatory gesture that got a chuckle out of him, then signaled, "Because if I hadn't, you great big bag of sperm, you'd have berated me about it for weeks."

Terry smirked.

"Glad you noticed," he signaled.


	23. Cold Water Before Midwinter

They gathered in Terry's rooms a bell before she arrived, the Tehea giving the instructions on who did what talking and how much of it, then turned to a more appealing source of conversation: Midwinter fests. Kehel and Ty had duties at the castle the first two days, the others the last three days. Ty did not look forward to the ceremonies—but the boys did. Mel and Terry took on a heated argument as to which one of the visiting Ladies were more beautiful, Leej lay down at his ease and ignored them, occasionally trying to shut them both up—he had a girlfriend and no intention of arguing such matters. Otian was explaining to Kehel what he wanted in a girl as Kehel tried not to laugh, occasionally shooting an amused glance to Ty, who was struggling not to laugh. She, of course, had no girlfriends to look forward to—nor did she want one.

The Panther, on the other hand, was berating her something fierce. She told her over and over to shut up, but it would not be quiet, telling her of every eligible man in the entire palace, until it came to a subject at which she turned furiously red with anger.

_We've talked about this! _Ty shouted at her_. No way, no how. You're imagining it like you've been imagining everything else. I'm pretending to be a girl, curse Mithros. This is where I draw the line—don't even START!_

_Ah, ah, ah! The Panther cried triumphantly. What did I tell you? There is something there somewhere. Deep within all those ridiculous shadows, there's something. I told you all those months ago—I told you!_

_You told me nothing useful, as damned overly-annoyingly normal. Now cut this out right now or so help me Goddess, I will—_

_I told you to wait for Midwinter, didn't I? Well, as it is we are about four days from Midwinter. What do you think he'll try?_

_Nothing! I am the Tehea and I am pretending to be a boy. If he does try anything, Mithros strike me, I will very well—_

_You know, _the Panther said suddenly,_ on a lighter tone, that boy—Otian—he's been looking at you very strangely for a while._

_What? _Ty replied, jumping up_. Whatever do you mean, you crazy cat?_

The Panther growled playfully._ Well, yes, the copper-curls seem to have been looking at you rather carefully since you showed me to them. When you said she, he seemed to jump from his skin. Perhaps he suspects?_

_Otian suspects nothing of his Tehea, _Ty said firmly, though pondering this carefully_. What is it with you attacking my pack anyway? First Kehel, now Otian, who are you going to start on next? Terry?_

_Well, _the Panther growled pensively_. He is rather tender with you, isn't he? Interesting…_

_Oh no, _Ty warned._ Don't you start on him now…_

_Well, he does rather look out for you, doesn't he? Maybe he's—_

"Ty, she's here!" Kehel whispered in her ear. Her mind back in her body, she nodded. She then strode over to the door and opened it to admit Kel.

"Lady Knight," she greeted her. The rest of the pack stayed silent, moving into their ring positions. Ty walked over to her place and sat down with her legs crossed, then motioned to Leej.

"Would you do the honors?" she asked him.

"Absolutely," Leej whispered.

The meeting was over and done with in fifteen minutes, but the next four days dragged on forever. Kel was going to keep a lookout, ask the Provost about the immigrating masses, but knew little else, which was exactly what the Tehea had asked them.

Even though all the boys were delighted at the coming of Midwinter, Ty became visibly crankier and crankier. The Panther would not leave her alone, and as she tried to sleep in her heap of rustled sheets, gazing longingly at the small bed where Sabi had slept so long ago, thinking of all the things the Panther had bugged her with during the day. It was too much to bear.

She groaned and buried her face in her pillow. No, she felt nothing, no and no. No and no and no and NO. The Panther was playing with her because she felt like it, there was nothing lurking in the shadows of her mind, no and no and no. And if there was, she didn't want to see it. But there was nothing, really, nothing at all. It was just the Panther messing with her head. It really was, there was nothing else to it. Nothing else at all.

In the mornings, the pack was annoyingly joyful and Ty tired, not to mention grumpy. One day, the very day before midwinter, she cracked. She needed an outlet for all this frustration if she didn't want to fry the castle in her sleep.

"Terry, Practice Courts, now," she said to him, slamming down her cutlery. His joyful smile—he had been talking about something or other with Mel—at once turned into a frown of worry, and he took five rolls and marched out with her. Otian and Mel stared. Leej kept eating. Kehel slowly put his cutlery down and pondered.

Ty blew open the doors as they came in, making a lot of unnecessary noise. Her hold on her temper seemed so stretched that anything could set it off and therefore throw her awareness from inside her mind—it might not blow the castle to pieces due to Jonathon's protections and Numair's, but it would certainly set it afire.

"Tehea, what is it?" he asked as he closed the doors.

"I am aggravated enough to blow the palace to pieces—possibly all Corus," she replied.

"You look it," he commented. "But why? Why do you hate Midwinter so much? What is wrong?"

"Its just—the Panther is driving me insane," she muttered angrily. He looked at her, then walked over to the corner of the court and picked up a pair of canes. Tossing one at her, he came and took a fighter's stance in front of her.

"But why is she? And what dance?" he asked, getting his balance on his feet.

"No dance, random," Ty said, nodding to him and then diving into an opening. She knew perfectly well that on random Terry would pound her to death. Probably exactly what she was after anyway. "its mating season for her, the inner hunt. She's off and searching all the ruddy castle and won't let me sleep—messes with my mind. Ah—nice dive. But really, all I wish is that she'd just—ow—be quiet for once, she's driving me—gods, be a little easier on me—ruddy insane."

Terry dove in again, and Ty parried. The Panther whispered in her mind once more, _you like him_, and she lost it.

Terry's eyes widened in shock as Ty came at him in full force. Diving into every possible opening, making him step further and further back until he was practically against the wall. Ty was not keeping calm, she was losing it, and he could see it. Kicking the wall, he jumped over her and got behind her, and set about pounding her lightly.

He dove into a rib opening—she parried and dove his cane butt into his own ribs. He rolled his eyes and mashed it back at her, unbalanced her, and struck her knees from under her. She fell with her back to the floor, but before he could pounce on her, she jumped onto her knees with the agility that came of being a member of the feline family.

Immediately she was on him again, not even wincing if he struck her, only determination and anger in her eyes. Terry had enough time only to muse that she'd be full of bruises when he was done before finally taking her cane from her.

Ty threw herself at the wall behind her and pounded her fists raw. She seemed to be inattentive of her pain, of her own bruises and bleeding wounds, only trying to free everything plaguing her. Terry was rather sweating mildly, but Ty has sweat herself through.

The doors opened again, and the rest of the pack entered. Terry rushed over to them, telling them of what the problem was. Leej, Mel and Otian became visibly worried, glancing at Ty pounding herself. Kehel's face hardened visibly, and he placed what looked like five other rolls into Terry's hands before marching right over to Ty.

Unceremoniously he took hold of the raging girl. Immediately she was fighting him, and the boys winced as he carried her away from the Practice Courts—he was going to have painful bruises that night.

"Help me," he told the others. "Run to the Bathing House and get everyone out—if I can dump him in cold water, he might snap out of it."

"The Weed will kill him for being soaked," Otian said as he broke into a run toward the Bathing House, turning and running backwards to speak to him.

"What do you think he'll do if he finds him pounding himself senseless?" Kehel replied testily. Otian nodded and turned, running speedily to the Bathing House. Kehel took much longer to arrive—Ty might not be feeling pain at the moment, but Kehel did, and it was difficult to carry Ty and the bruises and pains she was causing all at once.

When he finally arrived, the pack was waiting for him, pooling the last of the freezing water into the grand tub. People would complain at its temperature—they might as well. It didn't really matter. Kehel tried to dump Ty inside, but the youngling simply would not let go of him. Resigned to the worst, he jumped in.

Finally Ty snapped out of it. The shock of the cold water had done it after all—she was back to herself and already spluttering about being cold. Then as she turned to glare at the pack, she saw Kehel.

"You dumped me into this mess?" she demanded angrily.

"Yes," he said, climbing out. Leej handed him a towel, and Otian held the other for Ty. As she got out, she grimaced and smiled thinly though thinly at him.

"Thank you, cub, for helping me," she whispered, though all the pack heard her.

Terry wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his sleeve. "Does this happen to you every year? Should we seek cover tomorrow?"

Ty sighed, then looked at him seriously. "You really want to know? I have no idea. This is not the first time this has happened to me, I've had two others, but they are so spaced out I don't know. I've been holding it in to stop myself from hurting someone. Didn't fancy the Weed on me, see. But I don't think you need to run for cover—just dump me here again, like Kehel did."

"Guys, you had better run," Terry said as the First Bell rang. "You're obviously going to be late—but do lets avoid it being too late."

"We'll lie to the Weed," Leej said, nodding them away. "Make up some kind of excuse. Go!"

As they ran, Kehel and Ty hardly looked at each other out of embarrassment. As they passed Kehel's room, Ty whispered "thank you" again before leaping into her room.

Kehel froze as he was about to open the door. He could hear the racket made by Ty as she sorted through her things and quickly getting changed. Ty never repeated things. Why had she thanked him twice?

Smiling slightly to himself as he ran into the room and changed, he shook with fear, for the millionth time thinking about what Midwinter might cost him.


	24. The Sparrow Passes

Ty was late. Kehel was late. It was all a bit of collective lateness explained by the two boys, who had gone to the Weed and told him it was all Otian's fault. Ty had raised an eyebrow at him whilst hearing the news, for everyone knew Otian was never to blame for anything but perhaps a bad joke now and then. It was later explained that Otian had volunteered. Ty thanked him and the boy glowed, then they all went back to report to their teacher, who would be telling them who to wait on, while the older boys went to change.

Leej and Otian disappeared, to no one's real surprise. Otian said he had to do something, and Leej had a date. Mel and Terry were going to the Dancing Dove, they said. Ty waved them off, her thoughts elsewhere, then returned to serving tables.

It was not until in the evening when everything happened at once. It was midnight, and Kehel had only just gotten sent off serving duty. He had only to wait a while and Ty, too, would get off. She was doing extra duty for a slight ill-comment on the serving-master. It had been funny.

"_Ty!_ Hand me over that small spoon over there!" the man had shouted in the kitchen. Ty had looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and half-turned, only to look directly where the man had briefly pointed before shuffling away to deal with a handful of different dishes.

"Which _one_, sir?" she asked the kitchen quietly, looking at the dozens of silver spoons lined up by size, each about a minute fraction of an inch apart in size. They all looked, to Ty, about three inches big. She picked one at random and came up to him.

"This one?" she asked politely.

"No!" replied the man, turning around to look at it for a second before running off in another direction, Ty barely moving but still at his heels. "For the sake of the Goddess, dear me, can't you pick one of the _small_ ones? I'll give you a clue: it's _silver_-colored. Now get it to me!"

"Oh, its _silver_ is it?" she had asked heatedly. "I'm _terribly_ sorry sir. They _all_ look silver to me. And which size? They _all_ measure about three inches, not one over or under it! Which _one_?" At this point Kehel and a handful of others had turned around to look in their direction, looking puzzled as to the reason for the fuss.

"All silver indeed!" the man had cried indignantly. "Page, can't you at least _fetch_ a spoon, or is your intelligence thus so narrowed? Is there so many problems within your loins you can't even sit _still_ until midnight?"

A few of the pages giggled. Ty pulsed with rage, though her face didn't show it. Her tongue did, for it said fiercely, "I would not create question about _my_ intelligence sir; it far outstrips your own. And I would not raise arguments about the state of my loins, I assure you, for it would raise certain questions about _your_ own genitalia. That is, if there's any _left_ after Cook did away with it when you last _pissed_ yourself."

A gasp had gone round the room. Then several boys had stuffed their fists in their mouths in order to stop themselves openly laughing. Kehel's face was red, he had seen in the silverware, but the serving-master's had been much, much worse.

"Out of my kitchen!" he had bellowed. "Detention duty, page! Scrubbing pans until one! Out!"

All Ty had done was raise an eyebrow and say, "well boys, that answers _that_ question, now, doesn't it? Don't think there'll be any more insinuations on _my_ loins from those that don't _have_ them, isn't that right, sir?"

"**OUT!"**

Kehel chuckled slightly.

"Kehel?" Ty asked as she gathered her things without a sound. "Could we pass by your room on our way to dinner? I need that notebook on the Kyprish notes and the other textbook for Tkaa's assignment."

Kehel nodded dumbly, then began walking along Ty as she made for the Page's Wing. Ty hoped he knew what she meant: she was going prowling, and needed his notes of the red building on the left side of the Dancing Dove in order to get in secretly. There was something there she wanted to check.

They walked silently over to his room. She waited outside as he went in, searched his desk for a moment, then came back out with the book. She nodded, then smiled slightly and looked into his face. It looked visibly gray. She frowned.

"Cub, what is it?" she asked him quietly, leaning against the doorframe. He shook his head and kept walking out the door. She grabbed his arm and turned him around.

He took a deep breath. "Ty, I need to ask you two favors," he said, looking into her eyes as if searching them for something. Ty frowned deeper and nodded.

"And they are?" she asked as he hesitated. The Panther whispered in her mind. She ignored her. Kehel never asked for anything. This must be serious. Within reason, she would help him with what he asked.

"First," he said, his eyes darting from location to location, though not locking onto hers. "I need to ask you: when are our Midwinter presents being given out? Tomorrow?"

"Yes," she answered. "And the second?"

Once again Kehel took a deep breath. Ty folded her arms and tried hard to force the Panther to be quiet for once. She searched his face. Something was there that she had seen before, but could not fathom. Was it shame?

"Kehel, spit it out," she told him sternly. "What _is_ it? What can I help you with?"

"I—I need you to promise me something," he said at length. She raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Promise you won't kill me."

He wouldn't meet her eyes. Ty made her face into a blank, mask in the slight darkness. Then she nodded.

"Promise?" he asked.

"Tehea's word, I won't kill you," she told him. Then she smiled slightly. "I don't see why I should though. Kehel, have you been misbehaving?"

Kehel faced her at last. Ty's smile died.

"Please don't kill me," he muttered. She nodded.

Then he leaned in. For some reason, her eyes were closed, her lips and face felt warm, despite the fierce cold. Then shock took over, then quickly was shut away as the sense in her head kicked in and she stepped back, knocking her head against the doorframe. Kehel drew back, pink in the face.

"Midwinter tradition, Ty," he mumbled. Then he faked a smile. "No killing, remember, you promised," he said, waving a finger in front of her stunned and speechless face. She was pale, numbed, and sweating. Instinct took over. She jerked his feet from under him, jumped to the ceiling, and dashed for her private ceiling, her spire. The panther chanted in her head triumphantly.

_I told you so, I told you so, _she sang in her mind.

_Shut up._


	25. Tall Dark Stranger

From the top of her spire, hanging on to the frozen pole of iron, Ty seethed. Of all people, how could she have let herself fall into the kinds of ways that she hated of her fellow females? Of all people—

A figure moved in the distance, lean, tall and quiet. She pounced, her personal thoughts of self-hate gone. She paused for a moment, the indecisive predator. Then she nodded, closing her eyes and calling in the Panther. As she opened them, her body changed, her eyes stung, and she leapt toward the floor.

She marked her target as she always did, her self-anger only a memory as the determination of the Hunt gave her adrenaline. The dark figure was headed for the lower suburbs. Her slitted eyes narrowed as she marked her prey into the night.

She lurked on the side of a building, behind the crumbling wall, peering through a gap in the mud that made up the better part of the suburban house. Through the gap she could see the tall figure she had been marking. Its scent was now marked upon her nostrils—it stank of evil male. The Panther agreed, its singing given up by the thrill of the Hunt.

She pounced on the back of the door, watching the man creep to the upstairs room. She leapt to the ceiling, then leaned back to see through a hole in the mud-hay match-patch that made up the lump of supposed-to-be house frame.

Then her blood turned to ice. Within the room, blood staining the wooden floor and part of the bleached walls, was a small figure wrapped in white cloths. She peered in closer as the Panther growled, and as the figure moved slightly with a moan, she let go and slumped on all four paws, spreading her awareness over the sleeping city.

_My pack, to me!_ Ty cried in her silent voice. _I've found her!_


	26. Wrong Girl

It all happened too quickly for Turk. He was simply following orders, putting the little brat to sleep and leaving her food within reach when through the wall comes the biggest feline he's ever seen. Before he knows it, there's fire on his windpipe and a naked female standing before him, murder in her eyes.

Ty looked at the man, closed her eyes, then struck her hand out forcibly. She burst into his mind, images flowing into her consciousness. She fell to her knees, broke the link and turned to the left to vomit. Through her eyes, she could see only blood. Her blood.

Dammit, she hated crying.

Blotting the tears our of her face, she snarled and turned to her maid.

Or who she thought was her maid.

She threw up a howl as she recognized who the figure in the room was—not Sabi.


	27. Breaking, Entering and Fighting

**Author's note: Well, hello Ty fans! I thought I might as well put a note of mine in here someplace, so here I am. I just wanted to say thank you so much for reading and great reviews, you guys are the best. If you have any questions or anything, please email me at . I'll try to post more often, really, its just I've been having real writer's block for a while and now I'm finally rid of it. And I want to apologize to you all for what happened to Sabi. I have posted this story in other places too, so I know some of you may want to chop my head right off for what happened to her. I apologize. Ty is just another personality bouncing in my head making it hard for me to avoid migraines, she tells me the story and I write it down. So please don't hate me, cause if you do now, you have no idea how much you're going to hate me later…**

**Now back to Ty. See you girls and boys!**

The pack heard the howl and its meaning, as well as the Tehea's order. The dropped whatever they were doing and dashed to her, the howl leading them. As they followed it, so did many others. They crowded around a peculiar house to find several dark figures trying to force their way in.

"Should we warn Ty?" Otian shouted at them as his long legs pumped in the house's direction.

Terry grinned. "They're the ones who'll need the warning."

About half a dozen figures burst through the door and ran up the stairs as the pack got to the edge of the street where the house was located. Terry grinned, the Stallion in him taking over, then nodded to Otian. He grinned too as they took the lead. Leej took the rear. Mel and Kehel took the flanks.

"Right!" shouted Mel.

Kehel took left, then looked to his sides before throwing himself at the wall and climbing skillfully until he met a window. Taking hold of a beam, he swung back and forth once before putting all his weight on his legs and bursting through the glass.

"This way!"

He ran through the room he had entered, took a left turn and saw a flash of a shadow. He pounced on it, then the room it was in. he knew he's found her know: Ty was never more than a shadow on the Hunt.

"That's not Sabi," commented Leej. The heard steps coming up the stairs. Terry threw Mel and Ty a glance. They took their positions.

"Kehel—the girl. My room. Leej—"

"I know. I'm on it."

Kehel took the child, Leej ran to the window and climbed down. As the shapes came higher into the house, cursing loudly, Ty sent up a war cry, taking from her boots her special knives.

Kehel looked at the window, briefly contemplated that knights were not meant to do this kind of thing, and jumped out of it.

As he fell he struck out an arm to hang on to a beam that connected one house to the next. It hurt his arm and he ignored it. The child stirred and shouts came from up in the room. He fell to the floor, knees bent, then bolted down the street.

Turning a corner, he saw Leej, the fastest of them, running off in the other direction with about half a town chasing him. He grinned at Kehel. He nodded and dashed for the palace gates.

Back in the room, the strangers were on them. Ty's eyes were slitted as she crouched. Then leapt at the first to come up the stairs. Poor bloke—never know what hit him. Her arms marked a great X as they slit his throat and she burst the butts of them back on the sides of another's skull. Then she kicked off the doorway and to the ceiling.

They flooded the room. Bust.

Ty grinned. A crowd had gathered under her. She glanced to her sides, saw she had the beams she needed, then dropped enough to brace her arms on one of the lower beams. She swung left—_one concussion_—right—_two concussions_—then forward—_hemorrhage_—and swung back to the higher beams above.

Terry grinned as he kicked one of his attackers in the groin. His Tehea always put on a show. Warn the King's Own to be careful of felines would make the top of his to-do list once his Ordeal was over.

_Crowd them in the middle,_ Ty asked the boys. Mel grinned and swung his sword forward, making his opponents step backward to the center of the room. Terry braced his hands on the floor and kicked the mass charging him right into the middle of the room.

Then Ty dropped from the ceiling. Another cry and twenty forms hit the ground. Terry came over to check if there were any that would get up.

Then his blood turned to ice. Twenty pairs of blank eyes looked back at him, no life in any of them.

As Ty panted, Mel came over by Terry and gaped, his jaw dropping. Terry barely caught sight of Ty growling, teeth bared as she looked at herself covered in blood as he saw the wounds of the men dead under him.

Then he retched.

He looked again, his face pale, his cheeks red and his entire body coated in sweat. The men below his gaze had three deep gashes in them, each bleeding profusely: one at the throat, one in the ribs, and one in the groin.

They didn't look knife-inflicted.

He didn't think it through. He should have, but he didn't. He just strode over to the snarling Ty, ignoring the sound of hooves coming from down the street, and took hold of her hands from behind. She swung around to attack him and he pinned her to the wall by kicking her in the ribs, her bones giving loud cracks, as he turned her hands up to his eyes.

Then he stared.

Her hands were covered in blood, as though she had dipped them into a pool of it. There were pieces of tissue under her fingernails. He looked up into her eyes, trying to see through the reflection of the carnage in them to the page he knew.

Her eyes were slits. Her growl faded slowly as he pinned her in position, then became glazed over as the sound of the King's Own approaching reached her ears.


	28. Arguements When Leaving

"Later," she grunted in pain. "Talk—when get—to palace. Now—get out—of this house."

Terry nodded and took his foot off her. She landed on the floor with a crunching sound, groaning with pain as she tried to get up again. He thought he could hear her ribs rubbing against one another.

She spit blood onto the floor. Her breathing was shallow. The hooves sounded very nearby. The King's Own were surrounding the house. The pages were out of time. If they found them here, they would not even merit the King's Mercy. It would be straight to the gallows.

But none of them moved.

"What if there's more of them in here?" Terry asked. "More children?"

Ty's eyes slit immediately. She wanted to get the children out. They could all see it. But they had no time. The King's Own was unlikely to want to kill any children in this house, but there was too much carnage for them to listen to the pages about the children in here.

"Oh, can't we just kill them and do our job?" Ty muttered under her breath—to no one in particular. "Please oh please-please? They're such an annoyance…"

"You want a price on your head?" Mel muttered to her, cleaning his sword and taking a stance.

"We need to get them out," Terry said decisively. "Whose master of stealth here?"

They both looked to Ty. She made to stand, but fell back on the wall. Just as Terry had thought—broken ribs.

"I'll do it," Ty grunted.

"The hell you will," Terry told her firmly. "You've at least three broken ribs. Mel—take him to a healer. Try the Dancing Dove—ask there, they'll lead you to one that'll keep his mouth shut. Tell them Terry's calling in a favor. I'll do the children."

"Stallion, I absolutely forbid—" Ty began, but the sound of hooves was now too close. Mel unceremoniously swung her over his shoulder and leapt through the window. Terry tied a strong strip of leather to his brow to keep his matted hair out of his eyes and dashed downstairs.

He didn't have time to be careful of leaving everything as he had found it. He dashed out of the room they were in, ran through the hallway, and found the main upper hall. There were five doors.

He kicked open the first. He found only blankets, pillows, and some kind of rope with manacles. No time to be disgusted, he thought. Slamming the door shut, he walked over to the other door—the one to his right. He tried to push it open, but it wouldn't budge.

Nodding and setting his jaw in a vice-like grip, he kicked out. The door flew open, the iron from the lock going everywhere. He stepped in, grabbed a candle that was hanging a little above his head—

—and gasped.


	29. Something Unexpected

_Ty, _he called_. Ty, are you still there?_

_Yes._

_Ask Kehel if he's done with the child yet, _he said tersely

_What? Stallion, don't you dare keep me in the dark I am your Tehea and—_

_Ty, I haven't the time for this. Ask him._

_He says he is_. There was a pause, then_, he asks what's taking you so long._

_Tell him to get his behind over here—NOW._

_Stallion, what is it? Why are you—?_

_NOW, Ty._

_Gotcha._

He could hear the King's Own coming his way. He thought he knew what was down here, but there was one more door to check. Leaving the candle where it had been, he ran out the door and forced open the last door.

And stopped cold.

He could hear the King's Own coming. They were going to start climbing the stairs any minute. Thinking quickly, he decided: he could handle the children, but they would have to handle THIS.

But Ty would kill him if he didn't find out what was here. And the King's Own was going to break in any minute.

He used his common sense. There had to be about a hundred scrolls in here, and the King's Own would take them all to the King once found. Or destroy them. That'd take Ty off the edge. He took one that seemed under the heaviest protection, then left the door open and ran back into the dark doorway. Slamming the door shut, he thought for a moment. How could he keep the King's Own out of this one?

Cave it in, came a voice in his head. Terry smiled, nodded, and struck out toward the ceiling. It caved in immediately.

Thank you Tehea, he called.

Down that tunnel, Stallion, came the reply. I want a full report before sunrise. Her voice sounded gloating. He knew the drill: insult to win or go home in shame. He'd lost too often.

_Gotcha._

_That's my line!_ Ty complained, pouting evilly.

_Its been stolen._

_Kiss my ass._

_You know you want to._

_Damn you Terry!_

_Consider it done._

_You son of a whore._

_Leave my mother's honor alone. It's yours that shares her bed with anything._

There was a pause. He could feel her anger at the other end. He'd pushed it too far. She'd warned him not to mess with her parents.

_You're dead, stallion. Practice courts as soon as you get back. Never mind the Weed's little warning._

_He'll kill us both._

_No, he'll just pick up what's left of you._

He meant to retaliate, but she was gone. He cursed his luck. He always lost. Why'd he always lose? Was there something wrong with him that—

What was that light in the corner?

He walked over to where the feeble candle shone, nearly falling headfirst into the darkness when the stairs began. When he was finally about three feet away from the light, he saw a torch on the side of the wall. Using his candle, he lit it.

All he could do was stare.

Ty had been right. This wasn't just something impersonal, not just a few rare hits on a group of pages. There was more. Much more.

And many, many more people than he had thought.


	30. Down the Tunnel

"Kehel! Lovely you could make it," Terry said quickly from the mouth of the passage that led to Kehel's rooms. He was panting as hiding what was under him, flustered.

"What on earth happened?" Kehel asked as Mel and Leej came closer. Ty was in bed. Kehel had seen to it. "How many did you find?"

Terry struck out his hands and the boys pulled him out of the hole. "More than we can handle," he said sadly. He turned and looked back into the passage, then a small child, about seven, propped his hands out to be hauled from the hole. Terry leaned down and pulled the child out as about a dozen others crowded around the opening.

"STALLION!" came a voice from the other room. Terry sighed. The boys nodded. They began taking out the children as Terry hastened to Ty.

"How many?" she demanded, without so much as a preliminary hello.

Terry sighed, then said, "too many."

"How many? Any hurt?" Ty made to get up, rolled her eyes at her injuries, then jumped to the ceiling, her braids crackling with electricity.

"Dammit, Stallion, how many?" she shouted.

"About two thousand."

Ty's face turned to ice. Her blood was boiling. She leapt to the ground, and ignoring her injuries, walked to him. Her gaze burned a hole in his skull. "Are they hurt?"

Terry couldn't do anything else. He looked away. "None of them are virgins, Ty. The biggest is twelve. The youngest is three. They say their parents were brought overseas, and when they arrived the kids were taken from them."

He looked desperately into her eyes, shivering at what was in them. "Ty, what are we going to DO?"

Ty didn't move. Then she said, with a complete finality that racked his bones and drained his marrow, "we're calling in the backup. This calls for slaughter."

"Of children?" he asked, terrified.

"No," she said murderously. "Of their parents."

Kehel and Mel walked into the room, Kehel with a child per hip and one on his back, while Mel cradled a sleeping infant. "Tehea, what are we going to do with all these children?" Mel asked.

Ty paled. Them she walked back into her bed, shut her eyes, and spit some blood into a dish at her side. There was a leak in her lungs. She needed a healer, and they all knew it. Her included. It hurt when she breathed, but was small enough not to be fatal right away.

"I'm calling in a favor. We're going out of Corus. Boys, pack your bags."

The boys ran outside to do as they were told, yet Leej dug in the breaks at the last moment and called out to Ty.

"And the kids?" he yelled back. Ty froze. As did the other boys. Then she spun around.

"My room, meeting, five minutes, everyone old enough to listen and understand," she called, turning back into her room and shutting the door.


	31. The Meeting

As soon as they were packed, all members of the conspiracy—for it had become a conspiracy in all its members—met in Ty's rooms. They made a great circle around her bed, the boys nearest her. Ty herself had called in the Panther and now paced on the bed, back and forth, paws making no noise on the sheets.

"Right," she said as she finally sat still and reappeared as herself—in her clothes for a change. "Who's done the count? How many are we?"

"We're six pack-members, obviously, but the children were too many for any of us to simply count altogether," Leej reported. "So we split em up by age ranges. I have the eight year olds, because they're a group upon themselves, the biggest age group. Mel has the younger ones of the walking ones—five year olds. They're few enough. Terry has the six and seven year olds. Kehel has the bigger bunch, 'cause he can handle 'em, the nine and ten year olds. Otian has the really young group, the three and four year olds."

"What about my bunch?" Ty asked, blinking. "Surely you don't think me so incapacitated that I can't handle a few kids?"

"Ty," Kehel interrupted, "you can't handle even standing for a few minutes. You can't handle the kids. And don't growl at me. You're going to be leading us, making sure no one is missing. You're the general. There's enough work there without more kids."

"Yeah Ty," Mel agreed. "You've got enough with us, lets not start on the kids. So where are we going?"

"The path we take depends on our number," she replied tartly, taking hold of her side and snarling at Terry as he made to keep her up. "Stallion, I am not made of glass, I can handle this," she muttered, then said louder, "cubs, report! In order, Mel, Terry, Kehel, then you Leej. How many is your load? I suspect it wasn't two thousand, like I was originally told?"

"Of course we're not two thousand. If we were, do you know how much wailing would be coming from Kehel's room? No one would be asleep, and the King's Own at our necks!" Mel sat up straight as the others murmured approval. "I have fifty, Tehea."

"Really?" asked Terry, as if he couldn't believe it.

"No, not really," he said in a fake grumpy voice, though winking at Ty. "I've ninety five."

"I've got a huge load. Wish someone had told me, but done is done," Terry reported. "A hundred and eleven."

Ty just nodded, her eyes having moved silently from Mel to Terry back to Mel during their discussion, then to Terry for his report and now to Kehel.

"I've a hundred and thirty two," he reported promptly.

Ty's eyes widened but she said nothing. She nodded to Leej, who was still gaping at Kehel, then cleared her throat to make him speak.

"One hundred and forty five, and Otian has seventeen," he reported. All the other boys leaned into him, gaping at him. Ty snapped her fingers and began pacing once more, doing numbers in her head.

"Five hundred," she muttered as she paced. "How to make five-hundred and six people disappear and not burst an alarm with the King's Own?"

"Right!" she said, stopping mid-stride and making all inside her rooms jump. "We will regroup. I have no doubt that not all five hundred and six of us are in here. Thus, my cubs and trusted children, those of you old enough to be here, pay attention!

I want five teams of one hundred in ten minutes—but I will not have them randomly! I want one group of fighters, thus of you with muscle and wit, with Terry. All those skilled in stealth and running I want with Leej. Kehel, I want you with all those who are willing to do hard work.

Anyone who can handle a bow and arrow, spear, sword or knife I want with Mel. Everyone else I want with Otian and—hang on a single god's spat moment," Ty said, grinding to a halt and scanning the crowd.

She swung to face her pack. "Where's Otian?"

"He's with the youngsters," Mel told her. "They're sleeping in Kehel's rooms. We couldn't all fit, so the ones taking naps are with Otian."

"Tell Otian he has a dawn appointment with the gallows if he doesn't get his sorry behind to my rooms in ten minutes," Ty growled.


	32. Galatry's Tale

She leaped off the bed and into the crowd. The children gasped. A boy and two girls, who looked older than the rest, stood petrified in front of her. Then she asked behind her, "who's got these three?"

The boys looked at each other. The Panther sang in Ty's head. "You three are coming with me," Ty told them. "You look tough enough for the jobs I require of you. I'm Ty." She took out her hand to shake with the boy, who was frozen where he stood. A girl, black hair and tanned skin like all of the children though with remarkably golden eyes stepped forward from among the threesome and shook it.

"I'm Galatry," she said. "These are my siblings, Twengyn and Matterdy. They're twins. Matt? Say hello to Ty. Ginny, stop kicking me! Ty won't bite, will she?"

"Only if you really piss me off," Ty said, grinning, stretching out her hand to the boy. He drew himself taller and shook it. A frown passed her eyes, though it didn't reach her face. She then stretched out her hand to the girl, who also shook it.

"Pack, I want this party ready to dance in fifteen minutes," she called behind her. "Tell Otian to get his sorry behind in here soon as he can—if he wants to keep it. You—"she said to Galatry, "I want a word, since you seem the most ready to speak. Come with me."

Ty turned tail and made to stride purposefully out of her rooms—only to find a barricaded entrance. Her mind screamed annoyance, while she simply worked her way carefully to the door around the dozens of crowded youngsters. They parted as much as room permitted to let her pass. Mel was already trying to make the children reason to their abilities and telling them whom they had to go to. Through their words, silence hung thick on the air. Most eyes followed Ty from the room.

Shutting the door behind her, she took a left at the end of the Page Wing and came onto an open courtyard. Finding a corner in the darkness, she walked into it and checked the ceiling for listening spells. The ones here were worn thin. Perfect.

"Galatry, I have a few questions for you," Ty began, but the impatient youngster cut her short.

"I have questions of my own," she said firmly, her voice demanding an authority that made her raise her eyebrows. Through her surprise and hint of amusement, she nodded the girl to proceed.

"Where are we, who are those boys, and where are you taking us?" Galatry asked, all in one go.

Ty could see she was holding her breath. _Little suspicious youngster_, she mused. _All right. Two can play this game._

"We are in the King's Palace, in Corus, in a courtyard a little way north of the Left Page's Wing. Those 'boys' are pages, like me. Seeing you and your lot are too many to simply re-locate, I'm taking you to see a friend of mine. She and her brother owe me a favor. Anything further?"

The girl, stunned, shook her head. She seemed bemused. Ty's annoyance was mounting. She didn't have time for this.

"All right, Galatry, now I need a few questions answered of my own. I'm the leader of my pack, responsible for my cubs. If you mislead me or lie to me, I will know, and the result will be painful. Understood?" The girl nodded. Ty looked her over.

"I was told that none of your company are virgins. Is this true?" Ty asked.

Galatry's eyes turned to ice, as did her stare, but she nodded. Anger mingled with Ty's annoyance as she nodded acknowledgement.

"You—all of you—look distinctly alike. This leads me onto two theories, so tell me which is correct. Option one is you are all from one gigantic family, all uniting here in Corus for reasons of practicality, but something goes wrong. You are attacked by a group of people, who rape you all, and leave you locked in that cellar, taking your parents as hostages.

Option two is you are simply all from one same country, making a massive movement to Tortal for reasons I don't know. Your own parents leave you in that cellar for your protection and promise to return, only they yet haven't and when they do and find you gone will panic, an event we need to prepare for.

Option three, of course, is I'm far off and this is completely different. Pick and choose, Galatry. I need an answer."

Galatry shook her head sadly. "'Tis a sorry tale that brings us to this pretty land," she said morosely. "It is a mix of all options, Ty. Get comfortable, this may take a while.

We are all children of slaves, Ty. Our parents—and us, of course—all worked in an estate abroad. The adults worked in the metal-shops, while we worked in the mud-mines. None of us has seen the light of day until you brought us out of the cellar.

We are all of the same race, as you guessed. According to our parents, our homeland is far to the east, in a land of red soils. Many of the young ones dream of going there sometime, though it is a foolish dream.

But a few months ago, our parents found a way of escaping. Many of them died in the attempt, but the ones that got out—with us—brought us to Corus. They said that the master that had kept us caged lived here and that they were going to kill him and recover their lives. They told us to hide in the cellar and lie low for a bit, that they'd come back.

But they never did. So we waited and waited for months and our food and water was running out. And then the tall boy came and caved in the door, then moved us into a tunnel. And then—then here we are."


	33. Ty's Vow

Ty's eyes were slits from anger and the purest loathing. She hung in the shadows, trying to compose her voice so as to hide its hatred.

"Who did the raping, then?" she asked. The girl looked down.

"The adults…" she murmured.

Ty growled. "Your parents or the keepers?" she asked, a little louder.

"Both," she replied, a tear sliding down her face. Ty stepped forward from the shadows and wiped it away.

"Your parents are a danger," she told the girl, who looked up through tears and visible desperation. "We can't risk them getting a hold of you again. I don't know what they teach you kids about morals, but rape here is a crime. Unfortunately, if they want to mess with the rich men of Corus, that is their business—but I must tell you that's not what they're doing. They've been attacking us and other people who work for the King and Queen for months. They're setting gangs on us, and we simply cannot allow it to continue."

"What will you do?" Galatry asked, trying to master herself.

Ty's eyes glazed as she thought. After a few moments, she shook her head to clear it. "For starters, we're getting you the hell out of here," she said. "Then—" she paused as hatred rang in her skull echoing her heartbeat.

"I'll handle your parents."


	34. Lineup

In twenty minutes, a grand crowd stood, silently assembled in the courtyard. In front of them stood their army general, dressed once more in shirt and breeches, her breath coming harshly. In front of her, a bit jittery, stood her five members of the pack, by order of roll call.

"Fighters, step forward!" Ty called into the crowd. Terry and his group stepped forward and formed five straight lines behind their leader. Ty's eyebrows rose slightly. Most of the members looked nine-ish. Terry winked. Ty rolled her eyes.

"Weapons team, forward!" she called once more. Mel's group stepped forward. Most looked like ragamuffins and carried scars, though rather young. Mel grinned and nodded to Ty, then did a small bow. Ty cursed the presence of all the children—had they not been there, she would have made a few gestures. The did make a few words with the sign language they had, so much that Mel's ears glowed red. He licked a finger and put it in the center of his palm, acting as though it sizzled. She stuck her tongue out at him and looked for Kehel.

"Workers, to the front!" she called. From behind her came the elephantine footsteps of mounds of belongings on the move. She spun around. There came Kehel and his lot, carrying what looked like half the castle. They carried bundles of clothes, blankets and provisions to feed an army. But then, weren't they a small child army?

"Kehel, damn you to hell can't you tell me when you go off to ransack half the palace?" she asked.

"You said fifteen minutes and disappeared with Galatry," he retorted. "I didn't have time."

Growling, she looked forward once more. "Runners, step to me!"

Leej and his group stepped forward. He nodded to Ty, grinning broadly, before turning around and speaking quickly to his youngsters. Ty sighed.

"Otian and his group, forward!" she called. An odd assortment of children came forward as Otian emerged from the crowd. Otian saluted, then stepped forward more and whispered in Ty's ear.

"We still have a few napping in the caravans, but this is the lot. Ready for the road?"

"Caravans?" Ty shouted in his ear, spinning around to glare at Kehel. "Where in god's destroyed universe did you get caravans?"

"Stefan owes me a favor," he said.


	35. Gates and Saddles

Ty, bemused and slightly angry, shook her head and beckoned the pack forward. They stepped forward with her and she took a stick from her pocket. "This is the palace itself," she told the boys, drawing the shapes in the dirt. "These are the gates," she continued, drawing five gates around the palace, one north, one to the east and to the west, and two southward. She placed an X on the spot that they were, then looked up.

"Our best bet is the two South Gates. We're too many to be able to simply walk through North Gate and expect no one to stop us." At this, she looked back down to her map and made a large K at the eastern South Gate.

"Kehel, I'll need you and your children at this gate when I give the signal. You're going to be pulling these gates open, so if you need to borrow Otian, send word."

She looked up. "How big a favor does Stefan owe you?" she asked.

Kehel pondered. "I'm not sure," he sighed. "What do you need?"

Ty counted a bit on her fingers, then said, "I need nine of the fastest horses—or ponies, if there's not enough horses to keep quiet. They need to be able to ride for a long while."

Kehel's mouth had dropped open, but he set his jaw and nodded. "I'll ask Stefan," he said. "If not, I'll try Onua's ponies. They've just gotten new ones this week and I don't think they've been counted since they joined up with the others."

"How fast are the horses on the caravans?" she asked him.

Kehel shook his head. "Ty, caravans go slowly. If we're to ride quickly, the caravans won't keep up."

Ty groaned. "Oh, this is no good. How many caravans?"

"For five hundred children?" Kehel's face screwed up in thought. "If we're twenty per caravan? That makes twenty five caravans plus provisions."

Ty shook her head. "Impossible. We'll never make it."

"Well, what do you propose then?" Kehel asked her rather snappishly. There was a long pause as Ty thought. Then she snapped her fingers, muttered to herself, and looked at Leej.

"Do all your kids have shoes?" she asked.

"You surely don't think making them walk is going to make us go any faster?" Terry asked, bewildered. Mel nudged him in the ribs.

"Shut up, Stallion, the Tehea's got a plan!" he told the other boy. Then to Ty, "My lot have shoes, Tehea, though they're not in good shape. But if you're going to make them pace, we're going to have a bit of a problem where Otian's lot fit in. Most their age can barely walk."

"They're few enough. We can take them two per horse with us, they're enough not to burden them," Otian cut in. "besides, we split them by skill, remember? I've got a hundred now, not seventeen. We'd need the caravans anyway."

Ty straightened suddenly, a smile on her lips. She looked over the crowd, caught sight of the caravans, then grinned and doubled over with the boys. "I've got it," she told them. "Kehel, how many caravans have you?"

"Twenty-four," he reported. "Like I said, the twenty and provisions."

"We need fourteen," she said. Then her mouth moved slightly to the right as she though, and back to its smile. "Forget I said that. We need fifteen, plus the nine horses. Can you arrange it?"

Kehel nodded. She made the sign to be back ASAP and he left running. She turned to the remaining four. "Right-o boys, this is what we're going to do…"

It was simple enough as far as huge escapades went. The caravan party was split in two. Seven went east while the other seven went north. They would meet up north of Corus the next day at sundown so Ty could direct them on how to reach her friends.

There was an eventual problem on the divisions, however. Ty wanted to go with Terry and Leej, because she needed the runners and every team should have fighters. But, unfortunately for Ty, the pack decided to overrule her, because she was having too much trouble breathing (and therefore would find it hard to run on a horse instead of gallop) to be able to handle the enormous load that would be. So they saddled Leej with Mel and Otian while she went with Kehel and Terry. Ty complained but eventually gave in, glowering at them all. Then they split up to set plans to actions.

Ty prepared cloths soaked in something-or-other and passed them to Galatry and her siblings, who crept up on the guards one by one to make them sleep. It was subtle enough they'd all think they'd fallen asleep on duty. Then Kehel's lot opened the two southern gates (they had to call Otian up eventually, because they were simply too heavy to lift without him).

Mel, Terry and their respective groups kept watch over as the groups of caravans spun off into the night. When they finally retreated outside, a select group stayed with Kehel and Otian to close the gates once more. Ty, on the wall, carried child after child onto the other side, broken ribs and all, until Terry carried her out upside-down into a prepared soft saddle for her to sit on.

Then they rode off into the night. The younger bunch went slowly, along the safer route to the west, while Ty set a fast pace on the horses to the ridges to the east. Galatry rode faster ahead of the group, picking out trails, while her siblings guarded the rear with Terry. Kehel, the best among them on a horse, watched the flanks.

As so they met the daybreak, three miles from Corus itself, so also they met with a small catastrophe.

"Need air…" muttered Ty, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she rode, all blood draining from her face as she slipped from the saddle.


	36. Move! Fast!

"TY!" exclaimed the boys, running to pick her from the ground. Galatry was out of her saddle in a flash and scooping Ty up from the dirt before mud could gather on her breeches.

Where had the other girl suddenly come from? No one asked, they were too busy looking at Ty.

Galatry began immediately thumbing and checking her body for something or other, then ransacking her saddlebags, paying Ty little attention. Kehel took the chance of her inattentiveness to gape at what looked clearly like a corpse.

"Ty…" Kehel muttered, taking her from Galatry and placing her in his lap as he rode.

Ty was paler than anyone had ever seen her, glowing a whitish-blue. Her lips and fingertips shone purple, as if she was freezing. Her face, around her eyes and nose, shone very red.

"Blood loss," Terry said quickly from behind Kehel, looking at her with eyes of the glazed and total panic. "Kehel, we need a healer! Now!"

"And where do you propose we get one?" snapped Otian in a squeaky voice. "We're running away from the goddamn _palace_ you think they're going to give us a goddamn _healer_? When we're goddamn _miles_ away?"

"Well, they aren't if you continue to act like such an ass! We need help!"

"Who're you calling a goddamn _ass_!"

"You, you stupid bullfrog! He's _bleeding_ himself to _death_ and you stand there cussing like it'll all _go away_ if you act yourself senseless!"

"Don't you call me—!"

"Oh, move _over_!" Galatry shouted at the lot of them. Apparently, she had found what she was looking for—though she did not seem like this made her feel any better. She was shaky, though firm.

Kehel's face, very close to Ty's, looked up suddenly and the boys put down their fists, which had risen to punch each other. In a flash Ty was in her lap, not even moving in the saddle, as Galatry raised her two index fingers.

A piercing whistle emitted from her mouth as Galatry put the two digits in her mouth. Then she shouted into the daybreak "Gin! Matt! He's down-'n'-out! Get over here!"

From both sides came the sound of ripping underbrush as the two younglings sped their way. Ginny burst out first, jumping right out of her saddle as her horse sped next to Terry, who halted it at once, then rushed over to where Ty lay motionless. Matt, on the other hand, had clambered over in all speed—and with much less noise—to hurry over to Galatry.

"Matt! I need you to take the front—twenty yards and keep climbing. Runway-'n'-east, follow till you meet either a road or path, a town, or the Own. If you see anyone, or anyone sees you, I'll have your hide. Off with you!

Fire-wire, I need you on our left flank, take to the woods and find me an oak, I don't care how you do it. There's bound to be saplings of the things around here someplace. I need a small one, nineteen inches at biggest, roots 'n' all.

Muscle, I need you on the right. Get me a gallon of water, and some dried branches, try not to make the water too dirty.

Worry-face, go to the back. On your way, find me some oil and brandy. Oh, you have brandy? Thanks.

Okay, people, I know you probably hate taking orders from me but in the state this boy is in, we need this in speed.

Gin, Ginny oh Gin, do you still remember that trick? Have you the pipe still? All right, here we go!

And someone find me my cousin, I'm sure he came with us, name's Kane. Bring him, whoever's got him. He'll be easy to track down, just shout for him. I need to keep my lungs for now, though.

Off with everybody then!"

Otian sped off the left, kicking his mount at all speed in search for the oak sapling as Terry hurried off to their right. Kehel, still looking very worried, sped off shouting for the boy and in the search of the supply caravan. Matt was long gone.


	37. Rescued to the Rescue

"Ginny-Gin, can you still do this?" Galatry asked worriedly to her sister, who was placing Ty's body between the two horses, the head on her horse and cradling the face, which was growing bluer.

"Of course I can," Ginny said quickly, tilting Ty's head back to clear the airway, then listening for breathing. "She's going to drown like this. I need to get that blood out of her lungs, and I need to get it out now. Gala, d'you have that brandy the boy gave you?"

Galatry handed it over, stripping her gloves from her hands and feeling Ty's neck skin. It was drying fast, and as she pinched it, Ty didn't move. The skin took some moments to go back to its original position. Galatry frowned in worry.

Ginny was busy pouring the brandy slowly down Ty's throat. It was slowly trickling down, which seemed to make Ginny very impatient. She then deftly pulled a knife with a very thin blade from its resting place at her hip and looked around for the boys.

"Gin! Gala!"

A boy with dark, slick hair cropped short on top of his hair and dark eyes was running over. He looked rather wiry and rather tall, and muscles worked on his legs as he ran with a wicked grin their way. Ginny hushed him over.

"K! I need some Trudy's-Bane and I need it _now_. These boys don't understand 'bout plants much, but you do. Can you find some here? Or something _else_ that'll do the trick?"

The grin vanished as Kane became serious. He looked away from Ginny to Galatry immediately, not even sparing a glance for Ty. "What'd'ya got?"

"Heavy blood loss, pierced lung, slow pulse, not breathing much," Galatry recited. The boy nodded and scampered off into the woods. In about thirty seconds he was back with what seemed a purplish version of poison ivy. From their left flank they could hear Otian coming back with the sapling.

"Keyroflame," the boy said, frowning as he set to work, hopping onto Ginny's mount and checking the saddlebags. "Dangerous little plant, but should do. I'll handl' it, but Gin, can ya hold on to it? I need to handl' this oilin'. Speakin' o' which, we got oil?"

"Oh, curse this by the Goddess, he's right," Galatry muttered, then to the back bellowed, "Where's that _oil_?"

Otian popped out of the woods on their left, carrying the little plant. "Here's the sapling. Anything else?" he panted. He was looking at Ty with eyes of desperation, then looked up at Galatry as if begging her to tell him to do something before he went mad.

"Yeah," muttered Kane as he took a knife from his own hip and began cutting it up and stripping it. "Y'all got any rags 'round here? An' where _is_ that bloody_ oil_?"

Otian sped off as Kehel's red face appeared behind them. "I got one of the caravans to give up some room so you can work there. The supplies you asked for are there."

"Tell Muscle-Lad I need the water pronto!" Ginny squeaked all of a sudden. "He's not breathing!"

Galatry dug her heels into her mount and rode off to the caravan Kehel was pointing at. Ginny threw her reins to Kane, who sped them off after her while the younger girl pulled Ty's head back even further before closing her nose and breathing into her.

"Airway's blocked!" she said, rising from Ty to shout to her sister as she stopped her mount and drew out a weirdly shaped hollow cane from inside a saddlebag. They pushed Ty into the caravan, which had a dozen or so children in it.

"Gin! Drain 'im, and do it fastish!" Kane told her, chopping at the roots with a fury and throwing them into a pot with oil. Taking another pot that looked somewhat like a clean chamber pot, he tossed some dried leaves and sticks in. Striking a flint, it went up in flames obligingly. He placed the oil above it to heat, then hurried over to Ginny.

It was very lucky she and Kane were helping. Ginny's mother had been a kind of healer to their group, knowing all of diseases and their treatments. Her mother's sister, Kane's mother, had been a master of the leaves. It was in great luck that both children, trained by their parents to some degree, were present at all.

Ginny's face looked somewhat purple. Tongue between her teeth, she was lowering the thin tube down Ty's throat. Galatry was cleaning a basin to use to place whatever it was that had blocked Ty's airway. Ginny muttered something to Kane, who ran outside to come back with Terry's water gallon and many cloth rags. When Terry—and many others—tried to hurry after him, he shouted at them to return to their posts.

"Fat chance the lad'll live if y'all are a'cloudin' 'round 'im an' not checkin' for intruders!" he shouted at the two older boys, who went off to their posts at once looking mortified.

"Your oil's boiling!" Galatry told him as he ran back to the caravan, eyes following him nervously. He threw the rags at Galatry's face before returning to his oil and tossing the sapling into it. Then he took the leaves from Ginny and began to pound them as if they had done him an unearthly wrong.

"I'm in!" Ginny cried to the pair in triumph. Then she took the tube and blew into it with all her might. Her face went reddish and she removed her mouth to cough. "Something's blocking me!" she cried after a thorough hacking.

"Dried blood, it'll be," Kane told her, throwing the leaves into his concoction and taking it down from the heat. "Gala, gimme them dusties you got 'nd a rag. Gin, ya need to lower this to 'im. It'll kick like the goddamn Own in the chest, but he aint got a chance without it."

"That smells foul!" Galatry told him, handing him what he asked for.

"But it'll burn up whatever's blockin' his airway, so less' not complain, eh?" he replied. They both nodded, Galatry closing her eyes as if in prayer.

"Cover ya mouths and noses, this'll be strong!" he told them, covering his own and throwing the dust into the pot. It steamed and threw up a thick stink like so many marshes, then subsided to bubbling. Then, crossed fingers in one hand and boiling concoction in the other, he poured a trickle down Ty's tube.

Thirty seconds was all it took. The substance ran down the pipe in a millisecond, then a sizzling sound for a few seconds…

Then came a scream loud enough to make the gods tremble.

"Get it out!" both Galatry and Kane shouted at once. "Get it out _get it out_!"

Ginny pulled the tube free. Ty collapsed on her side, wheezing. Color was rushing back into her lips and fingertips, but she looked utterly horrified, as though she was burning inside.

"Bucket at the ready!" Ginny cried. The children in the back of the caravan scampered within the tight space, putting as much distance between themselves and the shouting youngsters. Ty rolled over, her face went in the bucket, and—

"Eww!" said a few from the back of the caravan. From Ty's mouth came a steady spurt of dark red blood, thick and somewhat less liquid than normal blood would have looked. As soon as she stopped, Galatry poured half a gallon of water down her throat. Kane was using the other half—and some herbs—to see if he could repair the blood she had divulged.

"Ty!" Terry was riding next to the caravan, eyes wide in fear. "Ty, you all right mate?"

All three ignored him, though now the other children in the caravan also looked terrified. Kehel and Otian were soon riding beside Terry, looking exactly the same, if not worse.

"He's breathing fine," Galatry came and told them minutes later, swatting the sweat from her forehead with a sleeve. "He lost a lot of blood though. Thank the gods K was here really. He's the one who found our missing ingredient, and the one who figured out how to deal with him."

"The lad'll be alright," Kane said, coming over as well. "Loads of blood lost, mind. A lot of it glued to the airway, so we 'adta burn it out. Don't panic!" he said as all three boys started toward him, ready to hit him. "No need ta sock the boy 'oo saved the yer little page 'nyway. Now, I got some stuff for 'im to get all 'is missin' blood back, but I don' think 'e'll down it willingly. An' not on 'n' empty stomach, 'cause then 'e won' _keep_ it down. Any of y'all got the time?"


	38. Introductions General Nonsense

"Gala, orders?" Kane asked, grinning at his cousin. She drew herself to her full height.

"Ty warned me himself he might not make it. He told me if he fainted to leave him behind or just let him sway on his horse, but obviously I couldn't obey that, because if he died he can't kick my ass when he's awake enough to realize half his insides are burnt. So now.

We've got to rendezvous with the rest of the—er, you lot, Pack you call it?—in a few hours. But this little kid needs rest if he's to make it through the night. So we're going to need two watches when we bed down, one on him and one on everyone else.

I know you are all worried about him, but I need to have the people on watch with him to be people that, if he blacks out again, have the knowledge to help him. And the practice. So here's the deal: we're setting up guard duty, I'll take first watch on the boy, Gin will take second, Kane third and we'll see if Matt can track down Fer for fourth, but I don't think we'll get that far.

Now, you lot. I don't know your names, and I'm going to need them if I need to shout for you."

"I'm Terry," Terry said instantly, stretching out his arm. "This on my right—Fire-wire, you called him?—he's Otian. We call him Joker, but Ty calls him Strong One or Strong Cub, because he's the strongest of us. On my left is Kehel—he's our scholar, worrier, reader, and general pain in the ass. All knight nobility and philosophy. Don't get him talking if you value your ears, cause he'll talk them right off your—"

"Enough, Terry," said Otian, grin back in place seeing that Ty was going to get better. "And Terry here, he's Shang. They're really famous warriors, so I don't recommend you piss him off if he's unarmed. Or armed, even. Just generally speaking, don't invite him to dance."

Terry nudged him in the ribs as Galatry broke her handshake with Otian and moved on to Kehel.

"And another piece of advise, for the best," said Kehel, leaning forward to speak in Galatry's ear. "We call Otian Joker for a good reason: he'll try and make you laugh, but he's a bit flirtatious. So if he gets on your nerves, threaten to cut off one of his curls and send it off after a griffin. It's what Ty always does."

"Point taken," Galatry said, grinning, as she drew back. Kehel smiled.

"What was that all about?" Otian asked Kehel.

"Nothing!" Kehel replied defensively, grinning.

"I think I heard—" Otian began playfully—and somewhat suspiciously.

"Oh, shut up Joker," Galatry said, chuckling. "If you don't, I'll cut off one of your curls and send it off to a griffin so it can track you down."

"Ah!" Otian yelled, covering his head with his hands and acting playfully terrified. "No! Leave my curls alone you monster! Damn you Kehel, don't give her any ideas!"


	39. Planning Operation 'Scram'

So it was that hours later, somewhere near noon, Galatry came for the Cubs of the Pack. Ginny and Matt flanked her, but Kane had duty next to Ty while everyone else slept a wink and had a bit of lunch-ish-breakfast.

"What's this about, gala?" Otian asked her as they moved closer to the caravan Ty was in.

"Two things," she replied, turning around and halting a few feet from the caravan. "First, about Ty.

He's just woken up. I might as well tell you he spent a good deal of time asking me why the hell he felt on fire, then yelling at us all and valuable resources on him—" at this point she rolled her eyes and the Pack smiled sympathetically "—and then asked to speak with you lot. So you may do so momentarily.

I've made her situation clear to her, so I might as well do it for you: we cleared the airway, and the mixture that K made her down is going to replenish her blood circulation and level. So she won't bleed to death on us again. But—" she looked at them firmly, as if there was no arguing with her, "—Ty's lung is still trickling. The mixture will keep the blood from forming a barrier, but it isn't going to disappear. It may well get infected. He needs a healer soon—a week is the most I give him if he doesn't find one."

The three boys looked at each other in worry. Kehel was first to think properly. "Can he ride?"

"Not all day, but he can," Galatry replied. "He's got enough strength in him to lead us to wherever he's taking us, but more than five hours in the saddle and we'll lose him from dehydration. It's technically when the body doesn't have enough water to function. If he pukes again, there's no bringing him back."

The boys nodded. Otian passed his hand through his hair, Kehel looked a bit green but determined. Terry was frowning.

"What's the second news?" he asked.

Galatry's eyes closed and scrunched together, as if she was praying no one would kill her. Then, from her pocket, she took out a flimsy piece of blue fabric with silver lining and a single white horsehair caught in it.

"The Own is hot on our tail," she said shakily, eyes open and pleading.

"WHAT?" they all bellowed together.

"Pack, don't kill my girlie!" Ty's reprimand came from the caravan. "I like this one, leave her alone!"

The three boys did not spare Galatry another look. They strode over to the caravan and began shouting.

"The King's Own!"

"They'll kill us all…"

"…won't even get the King's mercy…"

"We are so royally screwed…"

"If they're on our tail…"

"…we'll have to fight if they catch up…"

"We can't attack the King's Own!"

"Jonathon will have all our necks!

"They'll send the Lioness after us—then we're as screwed as it gets!"

"We don't stand a chance—"

A sharp whistle cut through the air. Ty was glaring at all three of her pacing cubs. Otian smiled wryly.

"Nice to see your pipes still work, Tehea," he said, climbing onto the caravan and hugging her. "Gave us the scare of our little chivalrous lives."

"Get off me," Ty said in a disgusted voice, though she was losing the fight against a smile. "And do me the favor of leaving chivalry out of this."

"Done," he replied, letting go and grinning.

"Well," Ty said in a hoarse voice. "I'm better, thank you for asking. Could do with a meal, but K here says I won't keep it down if I have it, so it has to wait till I'm strong enough to swallow my blood draft."

"Why aren't you strong enough to keep it down now?" Terry asked, climbing on with Kehel and sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor.

"Because its made of my blood and tastes like dung," Ty said, grinning. "I learned from the first try, so I'm going to let it lie till K there says I'm good enough to down it."

"Its made of your blood?" all three chorused.

"Well, you've a mind among you today," Ty said. "Yes, it's made of my blood—and something else. Kehel, I would take down that recipe if I were you. That stuff is powerful enough to wake the dead, if they could swallow.

Now cubs, we need to talk about the Own. Yes, they're hot on our heels. Thank the Goddess Matt is fast and silent, he told us of their following. Which means we're going to need your help as well as some of the children's. We need to execute plan 'scram', and I need a glass of water."

"'Scram'?" Terry asked, surprised. "We're running?"

"Hell no," Ty said, thanking Ginny with her eyes as she downed her glass, then coughed on it and shot her a hateful glance. Half brandy, half water, it tasted awful. Honestly, couldn't she be trusted enough to be told what was in her drinks?

Ginny put on her innocent face and pointed to Kane, who gave her a look that defied her to argue about it. Remembering the morning, Ty growled at him and downed it.

"No, but we're going to make them think we are," Ty told her pack. "It's easy really, child's play, so it should be easy enough to accomplish. I'm told there are a few water sources around here, not too far away. We'll split the party into pieces, a part in the caravans, the others on foot.

Each of you will take a team in one direction—north, east, and west. We can't risk south. Now, as you all jog in different directions, you'll leave marks for the Own to follow. Then you'll find the water-sources, which I'll tell you of in a sec, and follow those rivers to the rendezvous. Walking on water leaves no tracks.

As they follow the wrong tracks, I'll take the rest of our infant force to the rendezvous myself, but these three miracles—I knew they were geniuses on first sight—are going to get me their relatives to hide our tracks.

Now boys, no getting caught. You know what'll happen then."

All three boys grinned.

"Yeah, we do," said Kehel, nodding to the other grinning boys.

"If you're caught by the Own, so help me, you won't be in their claws three hours that I'll have skinned you all alive, tossed you into some cave and eaten you alive! Decent cubs don't get caught!" they recited, then burst out laughing.

Ty chuckled, chocked, and was given a reprimanding look by Kane. Ty turned and gave him a look that told him not to push her temper. Kane raised an eyebrow as if pleased, then returned to his concoction.


	40. Plan 'Scram' Turns Into Plan 'Dam'

Otian prowled slowly, checking his tracks as the pace of the Own ahead of him sounded through the thick brush. He grinned. This was going to be fun.

Oh, he had followed the Tehea's instructions all right—he wasn't stupid enough to disobey. He had, though, made a little adjustment and taken a number of kids from their groups. He walked quietly back to them, a smirk on his face.

"Good to go, lads," he whispered to the youngsters looking so expectantly at him. "Vince, Edward, Colloroy? Take left. Gregory, Walroy, Menfis? Take right. Will, George and john, you've got the back, and David, Abraham and walker, you get front. I'll fix things. Starling hoot means it's me. Any other bird and run—the Own are smarter than they look, and they look really, really smart. Off with you."

The boys departed, and the copper-curled page remained, rubbing his hands together. "Let's give the Own a surprise they'll remember."

Letter sent by hawk messenger eight hours later. The Cubs have no idea.

_Dear Jon,_

_Say goodbye to that damned ball. We're definitely not going to make it._

_The North Road that passes through Kevel's Woods? Completely busted. No passing, none at all. _

_It's been abysmal. We've been tracking the damned caravans as you asked for twenty miles or so, but now we are regally stuck. About five miles southeast of Geneville, with the Devenue on the right side, we found tracks of lots of feet, all going in different directions. We were just going to split up and follow when all of a sudden this great noise came from the east and in less then ten seconds, we were all covered saddle-high in muddy water._

_The logs of the dam dislodged. They're blocking us north, east, west and—believe it Jon, I'm not making it up—south. Every direction we try to clear and we get more water. We won't get out of this for five weeks at least, the Devenue's too strong a current._

_So we're stranded. And what's worse, there's no hope we'll be able to catch your caravans. I need four Rider groups and Domitan's here as soon as they can get here. _

_My best to Thayet and Alanna._

_Moodily yours,_

_Raoul_


End file.
